One Day at a Time
by Things-One-and-Two
Summary: This is a look at one day a year in the ten years Will and Elizabeth are apart, from Elizabeth's point of view. The chapters are full of Elizabeth and her son fluff. [Epilogue: We'll just take everything one day at a time. COMPLETE!]
1. A New Hope

**Disclaimer: Erm. I don't own anything. Surprised?**

**Author's Notes; This story is a ten-chapter story, with each chapter being a different glimpse into the ten years apart for Elizabeth. Each chapter is one day per year for every year they're apart, the last chapter being the reunion (yay!). They're relatively short chapters, but if I like the idea enough, I might take some of these chapters and make them full blown-out one-shots. Dunno, though. shrugs**

**Enjoy, and thanks for reading!**

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**One Day at a Time  
By: MJ  
Chapter One: ****A New Hope**

The sunlight infiltrated through the near-sheer curtains covering the only window in her room, the perfect rays dancing across her closed eyelids. She squeezed them shut as a wave of nausea swept over her, but she dismissed it as simply bad fish from the night before. An instant later it was gone, and she opened her cinnamon eyes to a new day. A sigh escaped her lips as she sat up slowly, her head pounding and her body heavy. She felt weak and ill, and therefore was not in an agreeable mood. She dressed quietly, her eyes sometimes wandering to the window—the only window in the room, and the only window in her house that had a view of the cliff, and therefore a consistant view of the horizon.

"Yo, ho," she whispered the words, now a laughing matter in her own brain. A fierce pirate king she was now; she had neither a ship nor a crew in her care. She only had her house, and she lived by herself on that bluff; she had bought the land and the beach with the base money she had been left with when she and Will parted… was it but twelve weeks ago? She ran a hand through her honey curls and began a low braid. "heave, ho," she continued the whispered words, moving quietly about her tiny two-story home. Feeling the nausea sweep over her again, she quickly bi-passed the kitchen, but not before she grabbed her basket. It was a Tuesday, and she needed her produce for the next few days.

She continued to hum the tune to herself as she made her way down the slope; the little town grew larger before her eyes as she went. She smiled as she passed her fellow citizens, although she was not completely ignorant to the whispered gossip they shared when she was locked away in her house on the hill. She knew they thought her crazy; a widow who waits for her husband every night. Little did they know that most of what they said was true, and she even wondered vaguely what it would be like if she were to tell them the truth. That her husband was immortal, and his beating heart was hidden deep in the floorboards of her house, in a place no one would dare venture save herself.

"How much for the apples?" She asked a vendor, picking up the bright green fruits and pinching them to check their ripeness. The kind old man smiled and bagged three of them.

"For you, my sweet, free!" He said, and she smiled warily.

"Sir, I refuse—here," she placed three shillings in his gnarled hand. He tipped his hat to her as she left, placing the fruit in her basket. She meandered about the market, buying peaches, green beans, carrots and tomatoes; inwardly, she cursed herself for not starting her own little garden. As she reached the baker's stand, about to splurge on a cinnamon roll for herself, her stomach lurched. She set down her basket and clutched at her stomach with one hand, the other covering her mouth. She groaned and fell to her knees; the lurching continuing until she finally emptied the contents of her stomach. She pushed the stray hairs away from her now-sweating face as she heaved once more.

"Miss!"

She didn't move from her spot as she felt another's presence on the ground beside her. As she heaved a final time, she became aware that the new friend's hand was rubbing her back and speaking kind words to her. She finally raised her head to see a beautiful young girl with dark hair and sparkling eyes staring back at her.

"C'mon," she offered, helping her to stand. The stranger reached down and grabbed her forgotten basket and helped to guide the frail young woman through the crowd. "Me husband's a doctor, he'll take right good care of ye," she nodded.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it, it's the least I could do fer someone in yer condition! And in the middle of the market, too," she clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Right embarrassing…"

"Yes, thank you, I had quite forgot," her face was red, but the stranger laughed.

"I'm only teasin' ye!" She said, as they stopped in front of a quaint home. "C'mon inside, and I'll call for me husband," she said, helping to ease her inside the home, and lying her down on the couch in the parlor. It wasn't a moment later that she returned with a red-haired man with bright blue eyes and a friendly smile.

"My name's Henry, miss," he said, looking at her briefly. "I see you've met my wife--?"

"I don't… know her name."

"Oh!" She smiled, sticking out her hand and pushing her dark brown locks behind her shoulder. "Me name's Ana."

"My name's Elizabeth," Elizabeth said, chuckling lightly as she shook her new friend's hand. "Elizabeth Turner."

"Well, Miss--"

"Mrs.," Elizabeth corrected without a second thought. "Er… Mrs. Turner, please," she said, her eyes glazing over for a moment before they refocused on the kind doctor.

"My mistake," he said, smiling. "What… seems to be the problem?" He asked, moving around to kneel beside Elizabeth on the couch.

"I've been feeling dizzy and nauseous… and just plan horrible for the past few weeks," Elizabeth said in a quiet voice. "Perhaps… I'm not used to being on land? I had been sailing the seas for over three years before I moved here."

"How long do these symptoms persist?" Henry asked kindly, looking at his wife briefly. Ana smiled in a knowing fashion, and left the room for a moment.

Confused, Elizabeth replied, "They go away at the end of the morning… although, sometimes I wake up from them."

"Mm," Henry said, placing his hand on her abdomen for a moment. "Elizabeth, what you have is serious, but not something that you will likely die from."

"S-s-serious?" Elizabeth gasped, and Henry's eyes widened.

"Oh—no… not in that way… Er," he fumbled over his words nervously. "Serious in the sense that it's life-altering and is something wonderful for you and your husband to share!"

"What are you saying, doctor?" Elizabeth asked, breathless. Her eyes traveled to Ana who had brought in a tray of food.

"You're pregnant," he said in a quiet voice. Elizabeth smiled at him.

"No… I can't be!" She said, although the possibility was exciting nonetheless. "I mean, I've only had sex once… er, well," she blushed, her thoughts going back to Will's final good-bye, "more than once—yet, still, just that _one day_." She stressed, and they understood.

"Husband's a sailor." Ana said knowingly, not even bothering to ask.

"Yes," Elizabeth said quickly, although it wasn't truly a lie, but it really wasn't the entire truth, either. Yes, he was a sailor, but he wasn't a merchant sailor or even a pirate... he was a sailor who ferried souls from one world to the next. And, he was a Captain... "I… I don't think he'll be back in enough time," she said quietly. As excited as she was knowing that she was carrying Will's child—that she would have a part of Will with her for the rest of her life—she was still scared of being alone… how was she supposed to support herself and a child? How was she to manage? How… was she supposed to raise this child without a father?

"Oh, please," Ana said bluntly, shooing away Elizabeth's woes with a wave of her hand, "I'm sure he'll be back… where could he possibly be sailing to—the end of the world?"

Even as Elizabeth laughed, her heart ached for she knew this joke to be true. Even more unfortunate was that it brought Elizabeth's thoughts to a whole new light; what about all the things Will was going to miss with this baby--? The baby's first words, steps... all the birthdays and Christmases... And after he came back for that one day, he would miss his son's wedding... his grandchildren... Tears sprung to her eyes, but she dismissed her knew friends' worries quickly. She wiped the tears away and smiled.

"I'm just going to take everything one day at a time."

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**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in a review.**

**Next Chapter: William III's first birthday... and he finds out just how much his father loves him.**


	2. Light of her Life

**Author's Notes; Originally, this was very, _very_ short. Like, 400 words, if _that_. However, the amount of support I recieved for the first chapter got me in the spirit, and I wrote a bit more. (The original version was simply the second scene with Elizabeth on the bluff, to give you an idea of how short it was...)**

**Enjoy!**

"Oh, Ana, it's beautiful," Elizabeth whispered as she ran a hand along the soft baby blanket Ana had made for William. She traced a finger along the embroidered name. _William Jonathon Turner III_, Elizabeth thought with a smile, her eyes falling to her baby who was wobbling towards her from across the room. She put the blanket down and held out her arms, the babe falling into them with a giggle. _Not to be confused with William Turner, Junior,_ she thought, a fake smile on her face as her heart began to ache. _Who is missing his son's first birthday…_

"I made it meself," Ana said proudly, and Elizabeth looked up at her, her reverie broken. She nodded and opened up the baby-blue and white blanket, placing it on the ground and putting William on top. He laughed, and she smiled.

"He loves it," she said softly. "Thank you."

"Here, we have another," Henry said, handing Elizabeth another package. She smiled and accepted it, pulling the brown packing paper away. She opened the tiny box with a gasp as she saw a miniature version of an all-too-familiar ship. "I had it specially made," he said quietly, watching her. Elizabeth looked up into his kind blue eyes with her own tear-filled brown.

"It's… beautiful," she said, her fingers tracing the details with reverence.

"I hope… it's not too…" he broke off, searching for the right word, "familiar."

"It's… perfect," Elizabeth nodded, moving from her seat. She moved to the mantle piece above the fireplace and she set the miniature version of the _Flying Dutchman_ on top. Of course Henry hadn't known the details all too well, but Elizabeth supposed he had simply gone by a rough sketch in some book or another.

"It's… not that long away, you know," Henry offered. Ana nodded.

"After all… another year's gone by already!" She said, trying to sound reassuring. Elizabeth nodded, biting her lip. She smiled at her friends; happy she had the opportunity to meet people she could trust so thoroughly with such a heavy secret. When her ninth month had come around, and they had still seen no sign of her husband, they lightly pressed her for the answer. She had broken down in tears and sobbed out the whole story, and when she finished her face had been red with embarrassment. Curiously, they had believed her story, and Elizabeth knew she could trust them with anything.

"Would… you like some cake? I baked a small one for the occasion," she said quietly, her voice breaking slightly. They smiled, but shook their heads.

"I have appointments," Henry said with a faint smile. Ana motioned to her swollen stomach.

"I need sleep… it's not kicking anymore, an' I want to take advantage!" Elizabeth nodded.

"At least a slice to go?" She asked, but they shook their heads.

"I'm sure William would enjoy the cake more than we would—take care of yourself, Elizabeth," Henry said, moving to help his wife as they both made their way to the door. They pulled their sweaters tighter around them as their carriage pulled up out front. Elizabeth picked up William and walked them to the door, showering them with her thank-yous. They dismissed her with their kind smiles. "Honestly, Elizabeth, it's nothing… shall I see you Monday, then?"

"Yes," she said. "I can help Monday, but Tuesday I'm working at the local general store… Ana—could you watch William?" She asked, her eyes looking at the boy in her arms rather than her friends.

"O' course—he seems to be gettin' along real swell with Mary," she nodded, leaning in to ruffle William's hair. He giggled with a smile on his face. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, the red fading from her cheeks.

"I owe you," she nodded, and they smiled before they turned and walked into their carriage. They waved at her from the windows before they disappeared down the bluff and into the faint outskirts of the village below. She turned to the child in her arms with a watery smile, "Let's go have some cake!" She said, moving into the kitchen with William cooing in her arms.

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"Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate's life for me," Elizabeth sang softly to the babe in her arms, a few hours after the slight party they had had. She looked into his soft eyes, the eyes that eerily reminded her of her love's, peeking out from behind deep brown curls that she constant ran her fingers through, patting down the fly-aways as she vaguely remembered her husband's hair being just as silky smooth. "We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, we loot," she broke off, her eyes trailing towards the horizon as she sat on the edge of the bluff. The babe squirmed in her arms and she sighed, returning to her song. "Drink up me hearties, yo ho," she finished, tears springing to her eyes as she once more glanced at the horizon. 

"Will," she said softly, looking down at the little boy in her arms. "Would be so proud of you," she whispered, her fingers returning to the young boy's hair. "Your _father _would be so proud of you."

He gurgled and clapped loudly, reaching a pudgy hand towards her hands, holding him in her lap, his back to her chest. She let him curl a fist around her pinky finger, and laughed with him while he giggled. "He would love you so much," she said softly, her eyes once more trailing out towards the horizon. "He would never let you go," she said, and the baby squeezed her finger almost knowingly. She smiled, "He would teach you how to use a sword, and he'd let you go sailing with Jack Sparrow… granted, you'd have to be a bit older," she said in a motherly sort of tone, a wistful smile on her face. "Perhaps… perhaps he'd teach you how to blacksmith, and he'd show you how to love," she said, tears springing to her eyes, "so that one day, when you find your own love, you would treat her wonderfully, as your father always treated me."

The sun was sinking below the water, the sky taking on a beautiful shade of pink as tears began to run down her rosy cheeks. She moved a hand to wipe them away and she brought her child closer to her as a cold breeze blew by on the February evening. Even in the Caribbean, it was still a bit cooler than regular. The boy cooed in her arms, letting go of her finger suddenly and clapping his hands together, squealing at the sight of the sun going down. His deep brown eyes were almost entranced by the sweet, candy-like colors, his mouth open in awe.

"Happy birthday, William," she said, leaning down and kissing his sweet brown curls. "Happy _first_ birthday…" she said softly, and the boy laughed, as if realizing this for himself. "Eight more years, my love, just eight more years this June and you will finally be able to see just how much your father loves you."

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**Wow! The response from last chapter was _wonderful!_ Thanks to everyone who reviewed; I'm glad you all are enjoying _reading_ this just as much as I'm enjoying _writing_ this!**

**Next Chapter: Christmas with a special visitor!**


	3. His Gift to Her

**Author's Notes: Fanfiction's being a little funny with me lately... Erm, whatever. So, Finals are over (yay!) and this means that I can update more often (double yay!). As a bit of a celebration, I'm updating this story, and then I'm probably going to take a break and write up the next chapter of The Devil's Riddle, because I really, _really_ need to finish that... Anyway-- I hope you guys like this chapter as much as you liked the other two!**

**Oh, for the purposes of this story, neither Elizabeth nor Jack know that Will's curse can be ended after ten years, savvy?**

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**One Day at a Time  
By: MJ  
Chapter Three: His Gift to Her**

"Happy Christmas, William!" Elizabeth called cheerfully as she walked into the young boy's room, the child already awake in his crib. She pulled him out and held him to her, the toddler squealing happily in her arms. "It's time to open your presents!" She said, and his eyes lit up and he laughed. She hugged him to her and moved towards the door at a hurried pace. Her skirt swished behind her, and her billowing sleeves acted almost as a blanket for William, still half-asleep in her arms.

As Elizabeth crossed to the parlor, she heard a snap and then a thud, followed by a "Ow!" Furrowing her brows, she held William closer to her as she walked through the threshold and into the parlor, where she came face to face with—

"'Ello, luv," Jack Sparrow greeted her with open arms, but paused mid-way as his eyes moved to the child in her arms. "Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed, setting down the small rucksack in his left hand to move closer towards her. "The boy wasn't a eunuch after all!"

"Jack," Elizabeth admonished, setting the toddler down on the ground, the young boy moving towards the Christmas tree in a teetering, swaying walk. "He _definitely_ was not," she smiled, and Jack frowned.

"Li'l too much information there, luv," he said, holding up his hands. "What's the kid's name?" He asked, his eyes drifting towards the young boy, who was the spitting image of his father. Jack figured it to be a Turner-curse; the father's always passing their looks to the sons.

"William Jonathon Turner III," She said proudly. Jack gagged.

"Cripes," he said smiling, "and I thought 'Shipwreck Cove' was uncreative. Blimey, 'Lizabeth, didn't ye think of anything else?"

"I always wanted to have a bit of Will with me at all times. Here he is," she motioned towards the young boy who had gotten a hold of one of his gifts.

"Well, what do you call him?"

"William," she said simply. "Because Will was—**is**— … Will is _always_ Will."

"Bugger," Jack said, looking at the kid again. "He's a bit young to be going by such an old name, don't'cha think?"

"I suppose," Elizabeth said thoughtfully. "What… do you suggest?"

"Ye said his middle name was Jonathon?"

"Yes," she nodded, her brows furrowing in confusion as she watched the old captain think. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he snapped his fingers.

"I got it!" He said, turning to the boy with a smile. "Johnny."

"Johnny?" She asked, raising an amused brow. Jack smiled and turned to her.

"Always liked the name—good, _strong_ name, but not _so_ strong that he sounds twenty at the round old age of--?"

"Two," she said. "He'll be three on February 14th."

"Ah," Jack said. "See? Johnny's perfect, an' ye won't get him mixed up with, say, the other two William Turners."

"Johnny," Elizabeth said, looking at her son.

"Aye, _Johnny_." Jack stressed. Johnny looked up at his mother with questioning eyes.

"Mama?" He said quietly. "Who's dat?" He lifted a hand to point at Jack. Elizabeth's heart froze.

"What—what did you just say?"

"Mama!" Johnny repeated, causing Elizabeth's heart to melt. Tears sprung to her eyes as she swooped down on the little boy, picking him up and twirling him in her arms. "Mama!" He said again, and she laughed loud and long; she laughed for the first time in a while, and it brought a smile to Jack's face.

"'Lizabeth, I got to run," he said, moving towards his bag again.

"Jack, you just got here!" Elizabeth said laughing. Jack shook his head.

"I'm a wanted man, 'Lizabeth, 'specially now that I found the Fountain of Youth," he said with a grin. After a bit of a pause, his grin widened and he added proudly, "And I emptied the sucker dry-- Barbossa took me bloody boat, well, I'll just have to wait until the man croaks!" He laughed long and hard as Elizabeth watched him curiously.

"You… found it?" She asked softly, her eyes searching his. He read her mind.

"Aye…" He said, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid and handing it to her. "In… seven years," he said looking at her seriously. "You and Will can use yer next day to figure out what you want to do wif' yer share," he said, squeezing her hand to emphasize his point. "But not a moment before," he said, looking her square in the eye. "Somehow me thinks Will would want to know before you'd make such a rash decision, aye?" He looked at her a moment. "How... _are_ you holding up? I mean... with him being gone and everything--?" He asked uncertainly. Elizabeth paused a moment, her eyes glazing over slightly.

"I'd be lying to you if I said it wasn't difficult," she whispered, crossing her arms over her chest uncomfortably. "I work two jobs to put bread on the table, I spend as much time with Johnny as I can..." She paused a bit, trying desperately not to cry, "When I'm constantly busy, worrying about others, I don't have time to think about it... I can pretend as if I'm just like every other housewife, and that I'm simply waiting a bit longer for him to come home... No, the days aren't that hard," she said quietly, finally looking Jack in the eye, "it's the nights that are a living hell."

"Ye always were a tough one, Lizzie," Jack said just as quietly, his voice serious for the first time in a while. "Always had that rebellious streak in you--you'll get through this," he nodded. "I know ye will."

"Aye," she replied, and Johnny tugged at her skirt.

"Mama," he said quietly. Elizabeth had nearly forgotten the boy. She picked him up again, placing the bottle on the mantle piece next to Johnny's miniature version of the _Flying Dutchman_.

"Johnny," she said, and he smiled, already used to his own nickname. "This is your Uncle Jack."

"Unca Jack!" He exclaimed, reaching his arms out for the pirate to pick him up. Jack looked at Elizabeth uncomfortably.

"Do I _have_ to?" He asked childishly. She sent him a look and he sighed, picking the boy up gently. He held the youngster in his arms straight out in front of him, as if the boy was simply a piece of dirty laundry.

"Closer, Jack, don't hurt him!" Elizabeth admonished. He sent her another look before hugging the child to him, who immediately took up the task of playing with the beads in his hair.

"This is why I never got to know me own children," Jack said, a look of disgust on his face. "Pirates never make good fathers…" He looked at Elizabeth and immediately regretted his words. "Oh! Lizzie, I mean--"

"It's all right, Jack," Elizabeth said simply, looking at him wistfully. "I made a damn good mother, did I?"

Jack let out a bark like laugh, startling Johnny in his arms, "Aye, Lizzie," he said, calming down to look the Pirate King in the eye, "I'd have to say ye did."

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**Thanks for reading--tell me what you think in a review:)**


	4. Differences Among Us

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Woo-hoo!**

**Author's Note: Longest chapter ever! w00t! Okay, I definitely said I was going to take a break, but I am so in love with this story right now that I couldn't. I love this chapter to pieces, and I hope you all do, too...**

**Yes, I will admit that I sort of obsess over the idea that Johnny's eyes are identical to Will's eyes, but I thought that if I was separated from the man that I love for ten years, and had this constant reminder of him (i.e. my son's eyes) then I would sort of obsess over it too. Well, that's just my crazy, insane, completely-out-there reasoning, but at least I admit it. ;)**

**Once more, thanks for reviewing, and enjoy!**

**One Day at a Time**

**By: MJ**

**Chapter Four: Differences Among Us**

"…and that was how your Uncle Jack was saved from an unfortunate fate," she said softly, finishing the story as Johnny's eyes began to close. "All thanks to the wonderful pirate who ended up with the princess," she said, knowing in her heart she should tell him the truth, but figuring he was still a bit young to know.

"Mama," he said quietly, his voice not above a whisper.

"Yes, Johnny?" She replied, tucking his covers in. She moved to blow out the candle next to his bed.

"…How come I don't have a papa?"

She stopped before she could even cause the flame to flicker, her breath caught in her throat. It tightened and she snapped back to her sitting position, looking at her child with a frightful gaze. She had expected this; she had planned for this, but… not now—not when he was still so young! She sighed, with a smile on your face. "Why do you ask?" She said, attempting to avoid the conversation entirely.

"Mary and Katie have Mr. Henry… and I have an Uncle Jack, but no papa," he said sadly, looking as if he was about to cry. Elizabeth moved closer to him, picking up her three-year-old son and holding him in her arms.

"You have a papa," she said quietly.

"Really?" Johnny asked, excited.

"Yes, you have the most wonderful papa in the world," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

"Where is he?" Johnny asked, looking around naïvely as if his father was hiding somewhere in his room.

"He's very far away, Johnny," Elizabeth said sadly. "You won't see him for another six years…"

"Six years!" Johnny repeated, incredulous. Elizabeth nodded. "How come?"

"Because," Elizabeth started, biting her lip as she glanced out the window. "Because of your Uncle Jack."

"What did Unca Jack do?" Johnny asked, looking even more like he was going to cry. "Did Unca Jack take him away--? Tell Unca Jack to bring him back!" Johnny said, beginning to cry slightly. Elizabeth quickly moved her hands, her dainty fingers brushing the tears off of his cheeks.

"No, no… sweetie, your Uncle Jack saved your papa's life."

"He did?" Johnny asked, in a bit of a whining sort of tone. Elizabeth nodded.

"Yes… would you like to hear the story?"

"Yes!" Johnny said excitedly, jumping off of her lap. He teetered towards the door. "Can we have warm milk and cookies, Mama, oh, can we, _please_?" Elizabeth smiled.

"Sure… this is a very long story," Elizabeth said, getting up off the bed. Johnny grinned.

"I love long stories!" He squealed excitedly before he opened the door and took off down the hall. Elizabeth sighed, taking an extra moment to look outside the bedroom window. His window wasn't as nice as hers; it didn't have that constant view of the horizon, but he did have quite a nice view of the town. She had told Ana and Henry, and she had written it down in a diary. She relived it so many times in her dreams; how hard could it possibly be to tell her son?

She sighed, moving swiftly across the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Johnny had already gotten the cookies from the jar, the chair pushed up to the counter being evidence enough on how the small boy had succeeded. He was about to get the milk when Elizabeth stopped him. "Johnny," she said softly, and he turned to look at her. "Go into the parlor, and I'll bring everything in, okay?"

"Okay, Mama," he said, smiling softly as he darted into the other room excitedly.

Elizabeth sighed once more, pouring the milk into the pot and placing it over the dying embers of the evening's fire. It would be just enough heat to slightly warm the milk, which was all she needed. She placed the cookies on the plate, all the while figuring out how to phrase it. "I'll just… tell him the cold, hard truth," she said softly, balancing the two mugs of milk and the full plate of cookies in her hands. She moved into the parlor, and she saw that Johnny had taken his favorite seat. He had curled up under a blanket and his bright brown eyes were looking at her excitedly.

_Will's eyes…_ Her heart skipped a beat. She smiled nervously at him, handing the young boy his mug. She placed the plate on the table.

"Mama… what does papa look like?" Johnny asked as Elizabeth took her seat in the plush sofa next to his armchair. She breathed a sigh of relief; what an easy question.

"He has your eyes," she said softly, and Johnny grinned. "Or, rather, you have his eyes. Dark brown and mysterious," she said and he giggled. She smiled wider, "he has a very sculpted face," she said. "Like… you remember Uncle Jack?"

"Yeah!"

"Well… sort of like Uncle Jack's face, except wider… Papa has a few more scars, and he's a bit more tan," she said thinking about it seriously. "And he has the most wonderful smile."

"Is he tall?"

"Very tall," she nodded. "Just like you will be one day."

"Mama," Johnny said after taking a sip of his milk. "Is Papa a pirate?" Elizabeth nodded, and Johnny squealed. "Is that why he's not here with us--? Is he on Unca Jack's ship, finding buried treasure and killing the evil pirates?"

"Shh," Elizabeth shushed him, and he quieted down, looking at her expectantly. She smiled at his eagerness, something that reminded him of her, but those eyes… She shook her head slightly before once more looking at her son. "I suppose I should start at the beginning, shouldn't I?"

"How long is the beginining—can't you just jump to the good parts?" Johnny whined, and Elizabeth laughed.

"Do you remember the story of the prince and the princess?"

"Do I!" Johnny said, looking at her in such a way that Elizabeth couldn't help but think of Will and his ever-persistent sarcasm and over-the-top sense of humor. Something, she mused, no one else got to see but her… it was a bit of their private courtship that she absolutely missed; the way he was so free with her was absolutely refreshing.

"Well, what if I told you that I was the princess, and your father was the prince?"

"I don't believe you!"

"It's true!" Elizabeth laughed, and Johnny looked at her skeptically (in a way that only a three-year-old could manage), which only caused her to laugh harder. She took a sip of her milk to calm down before she looked at Johnny. "Your father was the apprentice to Mr. Brown, the local Blacksmith. I was the Governor's daughter, and therefore we were bound by society to never join together in holy matrimony."

"Boring," Johnny yawned.

"Hold on," Elizabeth scolded lightly. "Just a minute… Remember when I told you of the princess stealing the prince's medallion?"

"Of course! And then—the pirates came and stole the princess!"

"Right!"

"And then the prince came to the rescoo with Unca Jack!" Johnny's eyes gleamed. "Papa came with Unca Jack?"

"Yes!"

"And he fought the skelitin pirates?"

"Yes!"

Johnny's inward gasp and the look of euphoria on his face was enough to make Elizabeth feel warm inside, despite the cold March evening. Two months more and it would only be five more years until Will could come back—she was in her fourth year of him missing, and it was tearing her apart. It was Johnny's face, and his pure, innocent love that kept her going. She continued, "When we returned from our adventure, after Papa saved Uncle Jack, your father proposed."

"Ew… are you going to get all gross with the mushy stuff again?"

"No, Johnny, I promise," Elizabeth put her hand over her heart for good measure. "So, on the day of our wedding, your father was arrested."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing, Johnny, that's the point," Elizabeth sighed. "We were unfairly arrested for doing something that was absolutely right. There's a point to this, Johnny, you must _always_ fight for what you believe in… do you hear me? You never, ever let anyone take away your dreams… You can do whatever you want, but you must know that you must fight for it."

"I'm a fighter, Mama, I'm a pirate!"

Elizabeth smiled, "Good." She nodded, continuing, "Your father had to go off in search of Uncle Jack and his magical compass."

"Magical compass?"

"Yes, this compass points to whatever you want most in the world."

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want," Elizabeth affirmed. "Beckett wanted it because he wanted to have the Dead Man's chest."

"Dead Man's chest?"

And so Elizabeth went into explaining the whole Davy Jones ordeal, leaving out select details, such as her kissing "Uncle" Jack so as to kill him, thus leaving out all the intricate, minor details of her not talking to Will for close to three months. Three long, horrible, miserable months… She left out Uncle Jack's hallucinations (and the fact that he still suffers from them, although his new immortality has kept them at bay)… She never once, however, left out how much she and Will loved each other, a fact that made Johnny's eyes light up and his lips curve into a smile.

"So, your father and I were married in the rain by our once-enemy," Elizabeth said, her story drawing to a close. A faint amount of light was coming through the windows; how late had they stayed up? She shook the thoughts away and looked at her son; hours later, and he was still as attentative and curious as ever. "Suddenly, though, shortly after this, your father noticed that Uncle Jack was in trouble."

"No!"

"Yes! Uncle Jack and Davy Jones were in this horrible sword fight over the chest. Uncle Jack had the chest, but Davy Jones had the key! They were on the highest part of the tallest mast, and Uncle Jack was very close to losing! Your father, being the wonderful swordsman and friend that he is, swung over to the Flying Dutchman, and stole the chest when it had fallen. He ran to the stern of the ship, towards the helm. Just as he was about to fly back over, he got into a horrible swordfight with his father."

"Grandpapa?"

"Yes, Johnny, do you remember that he was a part of Jones's crew?" At Johnny's yawn, she continued. "Well, he was a bit of a lost cause… he didn't even remember that your father was his son!"

"Oh, no!" Elizabeth had to admit; Johnny had very good timing with his gasps, sighs, and moans. She smiled before continuing.

"While they were swordfighting, Davy Jones came down from the mast, and attempted to steal the chest again, but Uncle Jack stopped him!" Johnny clapped at this. "They got into another bad swordfight, and I saw that both your father and Uncle Jack were in trouble, so I swung over," she said, his heart beat rising as she came to the climax of her story. "Jones and I got into a duel, and I am not the skilled fighter your father or Uncle Jack are, and I began losing. Jones hit me, and I fell—my sword was a few feet away from me—I couldn't reach it!" Johnny looked on the verge of tears, but Elizabeth continued, "Right as Jones was about to kill me, your father stopped him."

Johnny gasped.

"He stabbed Jones in the chest—but he has no heart," Elizabeth said sadly. "And therefore, he didn't die."

"What… happened?" He asked quietly.

"Jones kicked your father, knocking him to the ground. Jones saw that even though he was threatening your father's life, Will was still looking at me—worried about me," Elizabeth's eyes began to fill with tears. She rubbed them away, determined to finish. "He realized that we were in love, and because he was separated from his lover, so should we. He raised his sword to kill your father when all of a sudden, Uncle Jack told him to stop. Jones looked towards him—Uncle Jack had his heart! Uncle Jack said how ironic it was that he was holding life and death in the palm of his hand, and Jones told Uncle Jack he was cruel."

"What did Uncle Jack say?"

"Uncle Jack said, 'Cruel is in the eye of the beholder', or something along those lines." Johnny laughed at Elizabeth's dead-on impersonation.

"What happened next?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath and sighed, her eyes moving towards her still full cup of milk. That's when the tears began to fall, and her chest ached as her heart cried as well for Will. She sat there sobbing quietly for a few moments, not noticing the light footsteps on the ground. Suddenly, a tiny hand was on her knee, and she looked up into those eyes. Those beautiful eyes full of worry and concern, and they only made her cry harder.

_Will's eyes…_

"Mama… don't cry, Mama… you don't have to tell me, Mama," he apologized over and over. Elizabeth set down her mug and pulled the boy into her arms, sitting him on her lap. "I'm sorry, Mama… please, you don't have to tell me anymore—just don't cry, Mama… Please don't cry…"

She kissed his curls, before she wiped the tears away. "No, Johnny… you need to know."

"What… happened, Mama?" He asked quietly. She took a deep breath.  
"Jones… laughed," she said bitterly, her back stiffening in anger. "And then… he stabbed your father."

It was dead silent after she made that revelation; she couldn't even hear Johnny's breathing. Suddenly, however, he let out a long sigh and then a tight sniff. She rubbed his back soothingly.

"Your father died that day," she said softly, mumbling the words into the deep brown curls of his hair; his father's son, he would always be. "But Uncle Jack saved him from death."

"How, Mama?" His voice was so tiny, now.

"Uncle Jack helped your father stab Jones's heart while Bootstrap distracted him."

"…So… he killed Jones?"

"Yes, Johnny, he killed Jones." The room fell silent again, before Johnny's quiet voice broke the tension.

"What happened next, Mama?"

"The ship went under, and Uncle Jack and I barely made it out of there…" She said just as softly. "We were about to go against Beckett entirely alone, when suddenly, out of nowhere, the ship resurfaced." Johnny gasped again, clapping his hands excitedly. "Will was alive again, as the immortal Captain of the Flying Dutchman," she said breathlessly. "With our two ships combined, we defeated Beckett, and the rest of his armada fell apart just as quickly, admitting defeat to our forces."

"Pirates always win," Johnny nodded, affirmatively. Elizabeth ruffled his hair.

"But, there was a cost to pay," Elizabeth said gravely. She felt Johnny stiffen.

"Cost?"

"Your father only had one day on land before he left for World's End again," she said quietly. "We spent that one day here, together, on this very island." She sighed, her mind momentarily reliving that last day again. She shook her head and kissed her son. "He left me here at sunset," she said quietly, and Johnny understood.

"Ten years at sea."

"One day at land," Elizabeth finished. Johnny sighed, leaning back into her chest.

"Mama," he said quietly after a while.

"Yes, baby?"

"Does Unca Jack still have that magical compass?"

"Yes, yes he does… Why?"

"Does it still show whatever you want most in the world?"

She understood. With a smile, she asked slyly, "What do you want, Johnny?" He turned to look at her, his eyes piercing through hers as she watched him think about it for a long time. The quietness seemed like an eternity of silence before his shaky voice came through loud and clear, piercing Elizabeth's heart with his sincerity.

"I want Papa."

She bit her lip and looked into his eyes—Will's eyes—and said just as quietly back, "Me too."

* * *

**Let me know what you think in a review!**

**Next Chapter: Johnny gets the adventure he's always wanted aboard Uncle Jack's ship...**


	5. Do you Fear Death?

**Author's Notes: I decided to do something a bit different in this chapter, and offer you a glimpse of Will! This chapter (and the last chapter) are going to be the only chapters where I feature him, as this is supposed to mainly be an Elizabeth story, but I needed to write a bit about Will and his own understanding of his duties to make the last chapter a bit more understandable... I hope I'm making sense... :)**

**Anyways, this is mostly a Will chapter, with your own little glimpse of Johnny, Elizabeth, and, of course, Uncle Jack!**

**Enjoy!**

**By the way-- Johnny is nearly five, but I'm using the years as given by the date that Will left Elizabeth on the bay--which I picked June 1 because it was easy. So one year is June 1 to June 1... this takes place in around December of her fifth year apart from Will, and they were picked up in September... this is relevant, I swear... :)**

* * *

**One Day at a Time**

**By: MJ**

**Do you Fear Death?**

* * *

_Thwack!  
__Thwack—THWACK!  
__Thwack, thwack, thwack—_

_Thwa—_

"Ow!"

Jack bent over and gripped his knee as Johnny giggled from his spot a few feet away. The young boy—nearly five now—fell to the floor in a fit of giggles, his wooden sword on the deck beside him. "Unca Jack!" He squealed as the drunken pirate staggered even more so with his red knee.

"Little bugger," Jack muttered to himself, sitting down on a barrel. He placed his own wooden sword beside him before returning to his knee. He rubbed it and glared daggers at the young boy. "I decide to teach 'im a lesson in swordfightin' an' this be how he repays me!"

"I taught him to fight."

Jack turned to glare at Elizabeth, who was watching him, amused, from the steps leading up to the forecastle deck. "I figured as much… ye would show 'im 'ow t'figh' dirty," Jack growled as Johnny ran up to his mother.

"I only showed him what Will showed me," she said simply with a smirk to her face. "He said he picked up a few things after dealing with _pirates_." She emphasized the final word and Jack nodded.

"Aye, but even I don't aim below th' belt," he said, motioning to his knee. "'Cause that's just wrong."

"That's a matter of perspective," Elizabeth said as she ran her hands through Johnny's curls; they were getting longer now, falling to about his shoulders. He grinned at her.

"Am I doing good, Mama?"

"Wonderful, darling," she said softly, kissing his forehead. He made a noise and pushed her away.

"Maaama," he whined, looking around. He looked back at her fiercely, "Not on deck—who knows who might see!"

She ruffled his hair and sighed, smirking at the young boy before him. He groaned and turned back to Jack, who was watching the pair with a pained smile on his face. Elizabeth assumed it was because of his knee, but she didn't know the secrets Jack held behind those nearly black eyes…

* * *

"_Jack!" _

_Jack turned around, watching as the man he considered to be his best friend suddenly appear beside him in the sea, on the deck of his own ship, The Flying Dutchman. The older man looked to his left and right and made a sign of the cross before he walked towards the railing of his ship. "William!"_

"_It's good to see you, Jack," Will said with a grin as one of his crewmembers moved to add a gangplank over from the Dutchman to the Pearl. Will walked over and Jack took two steps backwards. "Jack?"_

"_Ye're not here fer me, are ya?" Jack asked, paranoid. "'Cause I drank the water o' th' Fountain… ye ain't bloody here to take me back, are ya?"_

"_No, Jack… I'm here for someone else," Will asked, confused. "Where are they?"_

"_What're ye talkin' 'bout, William?" Jack asked suspiciously. "All o' me crew drank from the Fountain… we're all immortal now."_

"_Ye're wrong," a solemn voice called from the door to the forecastle. Both men turned to see Ragetti, and the tall, skinny man smiled. They looked at him a bit harder, and he shrugged. "Ye're wrong," he repeated, disappearing behind the opening. Will and Jack looked at each other briefly before following._

_They found most of the crew standing beside one hammock, and Jack raised an eyebrow. "Not… Mr. Gibbs," he said softly, his eyes widening. Will heard his mutter, but said nothing; what could he say to Jack now? He moved through the crew, who separated for him in a silent awe, before he kneeled next to the older man's hammock. _

"_Mr. Gibbs—do you fear--"_

"_No!" Jack bellowed, pushing Will aside. "Mr. Gibbs—what in the blazes were ya thinkin', mate?"_

"_Immortality is wrong, Jack," Gibbs grunted as he clutched his chest. A heart attack, Will could tell from where he stood. Will had seen a good amount of deaths in the four years he had been Captain of the Flying Dutchman to know exactly how a person died without even asking anymore. "It's only natural to pass on, Jack…"_

"_Death is far too scary for anyone t' want it," Jack said quietly, his eyes bearing into the older man's. Gibbs chuckled, sitting up._

"_When ye grow up, Jack," Gibbs said, gesturing to his salt-and-pepper hair and the wrinkles around his face, "Things that used t' scare ye don't scare ye tha' much anymore… sometimes, ye even welcome them."_

"_Why didn't ye just drink the water?" Jack asked again. Gibbs patted the captain on his back. _

"_I's all right, Cap'n…" He said, once more. "Ye'll be fine… ye got good friends in high places," he looked at Will and grinned before turning back to Jack, "and ye got an entire cargo of immortality-bearing water… I fink ye'll be fine…"_

"_I…" Jack broke off as Will placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into the blacksmith's troubled eyes before he moved away so that Will could do what he came there to do._

"_Do you fear death, Mr. Gibbs?" _

_The forecastle was deathly silent after he said this, the crew whispering about themselves; half-surprised and half-afraid of the Will Turner they used to know. He was wearing a blood-red shirt that opened to reveal his wound, something that all couldn't help but stare at. Mr. Gibbs looked up at the younger man with a knowing smile._

"_Not anymore, Mr. Turner." With a smile, Will took his hand and shook it. Suddenly, Gibb's body fell back against the hammock, his eyes closing and his breathing stilled. His chest stopped moving after a few more seconds, and Will looked at Jack._

"_I'm sorry, Jack," he said quietly, the pirate Captain seemingly shaken. It was then that Will realized that Gibbs was more like a father or brother to the captain than simply his first mate. Jack's face was unreadable for a moment before he turned to Cotton._

"_Prepare the body, mate," he said, his voice shaking as he left the crew and marched out on deck. Will followed him shortly after._

"_Have you seen her?" He asked in a quiet voice upon reaching Jack. The elder captain looked at Will with a piercing gaze. "I know… now is not the best time, Jack," he said quietly, his eyes searching Jack's. "But it's been five years—to the date," he said earnestly. "And… I miss her." When Jack didn't say anything, Will continued. "It's… a part of my duty, that truly, I'm not supposed to know anything about her, and she's not supposed to know anything about me," he said quietly, his eyes moving from Jack's face out onto the clear blue sea. "It's the worst part of my duty… I only realized after my letters failed to reach her, and I got a visit from Calypso herself… Seems that it was part of her bargain with Jones, and therefore a part of my bargain with her." He sighed, his hands gripping the railing even tighter. "She says I will receive some reward in the end… but she wasn't specific… said if I knew, the task ahead of me would be too easy," he looked at Jack. "It's killing me inside."_

"_It's just… so hard," he repeated quietly, looking away from Jack and into the setting sun. "I swear… Calypso must send me on missions just to see how much I can endure… Nearly almost every shipwreck I salvage—every crew I take on—there's at least one person who looks like her… one person who sounds like her… has her laugh, her smile…" He sighed. "Or—sometimes, Calypso comes to torment me herself, and I don't think I'm strong enough to endure it for that much longer…" At this revelation, Jack laughed. "It's not funny, Jack," Will spat, turning to glare at the Captain._

"_Aye, lad, it is," Jack said, still chuckling lightly. "If'n ye think that the same boy who was prepared to die for her—and did, if'n ye remember," Jack said, coming to stand next to him by the railing, "would think that he's not strong enough t' handle a wee bit o' teasin'… tha's quite funny…" Will looked at Jack questioningly and Jack sighed. "It's not a question of if ye'll remain faithful—ye will, lad… ye love 'er too much t' break 'er 'eart in five years time," he said quietly, looking Will dead in the eye. Will nodded, and smiled, looking back out to sea._

"_Thanks, Jack," he said with a firm nod, patting his hand on the railing, searching for the right words. He looked at the captain again. "For everything."_

"_I know," Jack said, placing his hands in the pocket of his coat. "I'm amazing," he said with a feigned air of modesty. He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Will, his eyes never leaving the younger man's. "Take this—I know ye can't know anythin' 'bout her, but take this…" He offered her a piece of hair ribbon. "When she left in such a damn hurry five years ago," he said with a chuckle, "she left most of her things behind. Me bein' the nice person tha' I am, I saved them… for a moment just like this."_

_Will put the hair ribbon in his pocket, but stared at Jack for a moment before he quietly uttered, "Why the __**hell**__ were you carrying one of my __**wife's**__ hair ribbons in your pocket?" Jack looked over at the Flying Dutchman before looking back at Will._

"_Ye don't think me dreads get a bit too hot at noon on a June day in the Caribbean?" Jack asked just as accusatory. "Jesus, whelp, ye're as dumb as I thought!" Will glowered before Jack grinned. "Hurry up, mate—ye're ship's leaving…"_

_Will turned to look at the Dutchman before he looked back at Jack one last time. "Jack," he said quickly as he moved to the other side of the ship. "If you see Elizabeth… you can't tell her you saw me…" He looked at the Captain of the Black Pearl one last time before stepping on his ship. "I know it'll hurt… but… please, promise me?"_

"_I promise, whelp," Jack nodded, tipping his hat to Will with a grin. Will saluted Jack sardonically, before he walked to the helm of his ship. Jack followed him with his eyes, and he smiled when he saw a faint glimmer beside him. Upon further staring, Jack saw that it was Gibbs… or, rather, his soul. Jack raised his hat to the older man—his friend, and a brother to him all the same—before the Flying Dutchman disappeared in the blink of an eye…_

* * *

"Jack?" 

Jack looked up to see Elizabeth staring at him. "Aye, Lizzie?"

"Is… something wrong?" She asked quietly. He shook his head quickly and offered her a golden grin.

"'Course not!"

"Unca Jack!" Jack turned to see Johnny grinning at him with his sword raised.

"Wot?"

"Again!" Johnny squealed, barely giving Jack time to pick up his own wooden sword before attacking him.

_Thwack!  
__Thwack!  
__Thwack—thwack—thwack—_

_THWACK!_

"Bloody hell!"

* * *

**Next Chapter: Pirating lessons with Uncle Jack...**

**Thanks for reading--let me know what you think in a review!**


	6. Apple Juice

**Author's Notes: Finally--an angst-free chapter! Honest, this chapter is really only for kicks and giggles, and was a lot of fun to write. I'm sorry it's taken me a bit longer to update, but I think I'll be able to knock out these last few chapters real easy.**

**Enjoy!**

**One Day at a Time**

**Chapter Six: Apple Juice**

**By: MJ**

* * *

Elizabeth had set Jack with the task of watching over Johnny while she finished packing their belongings, and Jack was less than pleased with the duty. It wasn't so much that spending time with his "nephew" bothered him, it was more or less the task of entertaining the "little bugger" that drove Jack up the wall. Johnny insisted on asking as many questions as possible, and refused to stop asking the question "why?". 

They had docked in the bay of the little island that Elizabeth had settled upon nearly three hours ago, and Jack was beginning to wonder if Elizabeth was taking so long just to make him angry. Whether or not it was intentional, it was working.

"Unca Jack!" Johnny squealed, following the pirate as he attempted to simply run away from the young child. "Unca Jack--wait for me!"

"Uncle Jack has some... pirate business he needs to tend to."

"Can I help?"

"No."

"Why?"

Jack closed his eyes and took a few deep, long breaths. "Because," he started, letting the air out with a deep sigh. "_I_ am the Captain of the fastest ship in the Caribbean--I don't need the help of a five-year-old boy."

"Why?"

"Because," Jack grunted, sitting down in front of the helm, his feet dangling over the side of the deck. "Because," he thought about it, and smiled, "yer not a pirate."

"Teach me!"

"No," Jack said firmly, turning to look sternly at the boy. "Not a chance in 'ell, boy." He took a long swig of his rum and grunted, turning to look at the child. He looked exactly like Will had done when Bill had taken Jack to see him whilst he was still the original Captain of the Black Pearl. That was the last time either Bill or Jack had seen William Turner II before that fateful day nearly ten years ago that Jack had accidentally come to Port Royal in a sinking dinghy... It broke Jack's heart that this boy had to grow up very similar to how Will had grown up; without a fatherly influence. Jack supposed he did owe it to the Turners to help the boy out a bit, but something in his gut told him that perhaps Elizabeth may not appreciate Jack teaching her child to be a pirate.

"Oh, I understand," Johnny said quietly, moving to get up. "I'll just go tell Mama that Unca Jack don't want to watch me anymore..." he said slyly; Jack could _hear_ the smug smile through his voice! "...I'm sure she won't get _too_ angry."

"No, don't tell yer Mum a damn thing," Jack said quickly, having only seen Elizabeth's true anger a few times, and, never wanting to see it again, he motioned for the child to sit down again.

"So you'll teach me?" Johnny asked hopefully. Jack could only grin at his eagerness; he truly was Will's son. Jack had remembered when he and Will had made way to Tortuga and how earnestly he had worked to help as much as he could. He remembered Elizabeth's almost desperation to become a pirate, and now...

"Yes, whelp, I'll teach ye," he nodded, flinching as the young boy screamed heartily.

"What first?" He asked earnestly.

"To be a good pirate, ye need t' have certain t'ings abou' ya tha' are a bit diff'rent than anyone else," Jack turned to look at the boy, and saw that even though he was excited to be learning about becoming a pirate, there was a quiet sadness about him. Jack sighed and smiled at the young boy, who smiled just as brightly back.

It was mid-September in Elizabeth's sixth year apart from Will, and Jack had noticed the toll it was taking on both her and Johnny, who seemed to be just as earnestly asking Jack questions about Will. As much as Jack loved to tell Johnny wonderful stories about his father, they seemed to make the young boy miss him even more. Jack shook his head of such thoughts.

_Ye were saying, _his own voice whispered in his ear.

"Right," Jack nodded, turning to see Johnny looking at him strangely. He patted the boy on the back. "Fer example," he said, pointing towards Rigetti, "he has a wooden eye. His fat friend over there," he pointed to Pintel, "has got himself a bald head and a witty mouth…"

He pointed towards Marty, "'E's short."

"He can't talk," to Cotton.

"And me," Jack said, looking down at the awe-struck five-year-old, "Well, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mate, an' tha's all ye really need t' know 'bout tha'," he winked, taking the bottle of rum in his hands and taking a large swig. "I'm known fer my dashin' good looks, my love of rum, and the fact tha' I'm a bloody genius in the… well… ye don't need t' 'ear tails o' Tortuga; ye're a bit too young fer tha'." He ruffled Johnny's hair.

"What can I do to be my own pirate?"

"Find somefink special about ye an' flaunt it fer the world to see…" Jack said, exaggerating his point with a wild sweep of his arms.

"My mum's the Pirate King," Johnny brightened.

"There ye go!"

"An' my father's the _immortal_ Captain of the Flying Dutchman!" He squealed just as happily.

"Aye," Jack said, a little less enthusiastically. "Tha' he is, mate."

"That must mean I'm special, right?"

"Ye're more than special, mate," Jack said. "Ye're a damn near miracle." He muttered to himself, flicking back a dreadlock in a dazed manner before taking another swig of rum.

"That's your secret," Johnny said, excitedly. Jack looked down at him.

"Wha'?"

"Your secret!" Johnny whispered, pointing towards the rum bottle. "That is what makes you different."

"Diff'rent, yes, but not in th' way yer thinkin'," Jack mused, looking down at the dirty bottle. "Ev'ry good pirate likes rum." He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"I want rum!"

"No," Jack said firmly. "When yer twelve, perhaps, but righ' now, yer a bit too young."

"You said you'd teach me to be a good pirate," Johnny said slyly. "Then you said every good pirate likes rum," he turned to stare defiantly at Jack, leading him to believe that as much as he looked like Will, he would be his mother's son. "Ergo, I should be allowed to have some rum."

"Not fair," Jack said, taking another sip of the alcohol. He pondered the boy's proposition before he realized something. "Hold on, boy, I'll get ye a bottle." Jack stood up and swayed violently. He finally settled, straightened his hat, and took off in a crooked walk towards hatch that led to the hull.

He reappeared moments later with a full bottle in his hands. He moved towards Johnny, how was staring at him, surprised. Jack handed Johnny the bottle with a pat on the back. "There, yer own bloody bottle o' rum."

"You can't be serious," Johnny said, surprised that Jack would do such a thing. He looked around for his mother before he uncorked the bottle and took a whiff of the smell. "Mmm… smells good—like…"

"Spicy."

"Aye, spicy," Johnny said, looking at the grimy bottle. He looked at Jack, who looked almost exasperated.

"Well, go on, then!"

Johnny took one last skeptical look at Jack before he placed the bottle to his lips and took a long, hard swig. He pulled the bottle away and grimaced at the taste. "Bitter," he muttered. "Rough," he coughed.

"Pirate," Jack said, causing Johnny to take another long, hard swig, as if to prove he was a true, good pirate. "Tha's a good lad," he said, slapping the boy on the back once. "Now, I'm off t' go 'elp yer mother… Lord knows wha's takin' her so damn long."

* * *

"Out on deck, ye scabberous dogs! Mind the sails—spin the wheel! Bring me more rum!" 

Johnny was swaying dangerously on a barrel at the helm of the wheel, shouting orders to a very amused pirate crew. Each man turned to the other with a large smile on their face before turning back to the boy.

"Aye, aye, _Captain._"

"Wot?"

Jack and Elizabeth had emerged from below, Jack carrying about three large trunks, and Elizabeth holding onto a few full sacks of supplies. Jack had nearly dropped his heavy load at the sentiment, but only paused to put it down because he feared that it would break through the ship.

"Aye, Unca Jack!" Johnny screamed from his position. "This be a mutininy!"

"A mut'ny?!" Jack roared, turning to his crew, how laughed. He looked back at the young boy, who was swaying dangerously.

"Aye, 'coz you dun'," he began to slur his words, and Elizabeth turned to glare daggers at Jack.

"Just _what_ did you give my son?" She asked, setting down her things to grip the hilt of her sword dangerously. "I swear to God, Jack, if you so much as—"

"Lizzie, honest," Jack said, backing up. When he reached the railing of the ship, he stopped, turned to her, and smiled. "It's not what you think."

"Mama!" Johnny cried from his post, falling down from the barrel. He got up and staggered towards her, the bottle three quarters of the way empty. "Unca Jack taught me t'be a pirate!"

"Did he now?" Elizabeth asked, her grip tightening. She turned to regard the seemingly-drunk boy.

"Aye!" Johnny quipped, stealing another drink from his bottle. "'E told me tha' ev'ry good pirate likes rum!"

"YOU GAVE MY FIVE-YEAR-OLD SON _RUM_?!"

"I GAVE THE BLOODY KID APPLE JUICE!" Jack roared, grabbing the bottle from Johnny's hands and forcing it into Elizabeth's. "The kid wouldn't leave me alone, so I decided to trick the little bugger," he looked from Johnny to Elizabeth and down to a now-sober and completely crushed Johnny.

"You mean you lied to me?"

"Pirate," Jack reminded, as Elizabeth smelled the bottle. She took a sip and smiled at Jack.

"Pirate," she reaffirmed. She turned to Johnny and put the bottle in his hand. "This," she said, motioning to the bottle, "is your very own, _personal_ 'rum'. You can only have it on occasions, and always in small amounts… I don't think Jack could take it if you tried to hold a mutiny every single night."

"But, Mama, it's not real rum!"

"You can have real rum when you're older," she said, shaking her head. "C'mon, now, we have to go home."

"How old do I have to be, Mama?"

"I'd say about eighteen."

"Unca Jack said I could have rum when I'm twelve."

"Uncle Jack may not live to see you turn twelve."

* * *

**Short and sweet, and hopefully cute. :)**

**Thanks for all those who reviewed for the last chapter--let me know what you think of this one in another! ;)**

**Because I finally--FINALLY--figured out the rest of my "one days" for the next few chapters, here's an outline for the rest of the fic:**

**Chapter Seven: Elizabeth reflects over her life without Will on the anniversary of their separation...  
Chapter Eight: A special visitor comes to check in on Elizabeth...  
Chapter Nine: Johnny turns nine...  
Chapter Ten: The reunion!**

**Also, I'm contemplating on doing a fic after this detailing Will and Elizabeth's first year reunited, but I'm not sure when I'll have the time to do it, as I still haven't finished my previous fic, The Devil's Riddle. Oops...**

**Once more, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!**


	7. Come Home

**Author's Notes: Okay... I'm not going to lie to you, this chapter is a bit... stranger than the other chapters. Elizabeth is grieving, and therefore this is just a very emotional chapter. I hope you don't find some of the things I did with it a bit too off-the-wall, but I kind of like how everything turned out.**

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone--the response this story is getting is phenomenal! **

**Here it is--ENJOY!**

* * *

**One Day at a Time**

**By: MJ**

* * *

"Hi, Will, it's me again…"

The whispered words fell upon deaf ears as Elizabeth pulled the chest out of her secret hiding spot under a loose floorboard under her bed. She placed the steel chest on her bed, her dainty fingers delicately fingering the details along the handle.

"I know it's only been a day, but… I need to talk."

She stood up slowly, the faint beating of his heart urging her to continue. She walked towards the window that showed the view of the horizon and gazed outside. She could see Johnny's faint silhouette as he played outside with Ana's daughter Mary and her four-year-old son, David. She sighed happily, leaning against the window frame as a warm summer breeze blew against her face.

"It's been seven years, Will, to the day—have you noticed?"

Her voice was choking up, tears were welling in her eyes; the sun was setting.

"I have… we both have… Johnny's a bit more brave than I am… sometimes I wonder what will happen when you two meet…

"Will you like each other?"

The last words were whispered, and they made her heart nearly stop beating. She placed a hand to her chest and felt it ache from inside. She looked back at the chest.

"I have no doubts that you will love him, but…"

She looked back out to her son.

"…He seems so fickle, lately, as if he wants his independence more than anything else… He's stopped asking questions about you," she said softly, her hands falling to grip the windowsill.

"Has he stopped caring?"

She looked back at the chest, listening to the steady heartbeat for a moment before turning back to the window.

"Of course not," she said quickly, sniffing. She rubbed her nose and sighed. "That was a silly thing to say, Will… Jesus."

She sat down, her back to the wall and her eyes on her feet.

"Am I crazy?" She wondered aloud. "Am I so out of my mind that I need to talk to you as if you're here—as if you're actually listening?!"

"Damn Calypso—Damn Davy Jones—Damn Jack Sparrow in the first place!" She screamed her hands clenching into fists. "If it wasn't for him, none of this would have happened—if it wasn't for him, everything would be all right with the world! My-my father would be alive, and… you…." She looked up at the chest. "You… would still be Mr. Brown's apprentice… and I'd be married to Norrington… even though I never loved him… he'd still be alive, too… We'd still be separated with or without Jack Sparrow." She said quietly, looking down at her hands.

"In a sense… I feel like both killing Jack and hugging him…"

She laughed slightly, her head leaning back so she could stare at the ceiling.

"I suppose that's true irony, then, isn't it?"

She stood up and looked out the window again; the sun was almost gone, the night was slowly creeping upon them.

"God, Will…" she muttered, her hands flying to the key around her neck. She tugged on it, slightly, as if to insure it was still there. "Normally, I can get by without you… I just… pretend you're out at sea, or tell myself that you will be back tomorrow… Except…

"Except tomorrow never comes… does it? Or… or at least it won't for another three years," she said quietly. "Three more years, love, three more long, tiring years. Only two more days like these, though…"

She looked back at the chest with a smile.

"I must apologize," she said, moving towards her bed again, her voice taking on an almost whimsical tone. "I always seem to get like this whenever this particular day comes."

She laughed, a fresh memory coming to her.

"When I was on the Pearl for those two years—Jack had to suffer with me like this for two days… I remember he thought I was insane—even asked me if I wanted him to kill a crew member just so I could see you…" She laughed even harder, her fingers tracing along the chest again. "I told him he was a bloody idiot to think I'd be so stupid; all of his crew members are immortal… I even think he attempted to make the Black Pearl immortal… There's some far-fetched tale out there that he used the rest of his water to completely bathe the Pearl in it…"

She snorted.

"Jack's daft, but not that stupid."

She smiled, looking towards the window again.

"Another bloody sunset," she said quietly. "Or sunrise in your case. I suppose this means that you've already suffered through this day alone… or perhaps it's just now starting for you? I never really understood the parallels of your world and mine."

She looked back at the chest as her heart tightened once more.

"I've only really understood that we are simply worlds apart right now."

She groped the key around her neck again, before she finally took off the necklace. She traced the outline of the key for just another moment before she put it in the lock and turned it. She moved away as it opened, and tears began to well in her eyes as she saw his heart.

Unlike Jones' heart, which was almost entirely flawless, Will's heart had still suffered the stab that Jones had caused, and thus there was a large black spot in the middle of his heart. She picked it up delicately, as if it was her own child, and held it's beating form in her hands.

A finger went out and touched the black spot, and she sighed.

"I wonder if you can feel this," she said, stopping her movements for a moment. The heartbeat remained constant; simply the same pitter-patter it had been the moment before. "I wonder if you can tell when I'm holding your heart in my hands… I think I can feel it when I know you're holding mine," she said quietly, her hand moving to her breast. Their heartbeats were similar—almost simultaneous, at that. "I can still feel your love around me… can you feel mine?"

It was quiet for a moment, and Elizabeth was simply trapped in the lullaby that was Will's heartbeat.

"Mama?"

She jumped off the bed at the sound of his voice, nearly dropping Will's heart in the process. Before she turned to regard the boy, she waited a moment to see if she had done any damage.

His heartbeat was still the same.

She delicately placed it in the chest and shut it quickly. As she was about to put it back under the bed, and simply tell him that it was a dream, she stopped. She looked up from her, and across the bed from her was Johnny. His eyes were staring into hers, confused, before he spoke again.

"Mama… what are you doing?"

"Nothing," Elizabeth attempted to lie, but Johnny caught her.

"Mama… what's that? … Is that… the Dead Man's Chest?" He placed a hand on the steel box. Elizabeth's heart froze. "Is… Papa's heart in here?"

There was no use lying to him. "Yes."

He was quiet for a while, looking intently at the chest. She was about to shoo him out of the room and put him to bed with simply another story when he spoke again, interrupting her thoughts.

"Can… can I hold it?"

She looked him in the eye, and, upon seeing those eyes, she melted. He still had his father's eyes, and those eyes could make her go weak enough that she would concede and let the boy do mostly anything he pleased. She nodded, her hands going to the necklace that was once more around her neck. Almost painfully slow, she placed the key into the lock and turned.

As the chest opened, she kept her eyes on him. He seemed eager, excited, and anxious at the same time. She watched him lean forward ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of the heart before he finally turned and met her eye again. With a nod, she leaned forward and gently picked the heart up again. It's steady beating filled the room, as it seemed almost magnified ten times more than normal. She beckoned for Johnny to sit on the bed, and she motioned to him that the way she was holding it was exactly how he was to.

Her eyes never leaving his, she placed the heart in his hands and waited.

Suddenly, the heartbeat quickened, and Johnny looked at Elizabeth, scared. She looked at him, just as worried, before it calmed.

"Don' worreh."

Elizabeth turned and took in a sharp breath as her eyes fell to Calypso, but she was in the form of her former self, Tia Dalma.

"Calypso," she turned to see Johnny staring at the witch with wide eyes. She smirked before turning back to the sea goddess.

"Why should we not worry?" Elizabeth asked quietly. Calypso smiled.

"Will be fine," she said, stepping through the wall to walk into Elizabeth's room. "He just felt yer son's li'l hands 'oldin' 'is 'eart," she motioned to Johnny. "He do not know of de chile, though," she said softly, moving closer and closer to Elizabeth's son. Elizabeth watched her carefully. Finally, Calypso was standing in front of Johnny. She held out two of her dark, delicate hands. Johnny looked at his mother who was still staring at Calypso, before he placed the heart in the goddess's hands.

"Would ye like t' see 'im?" She asked as she placed the heart in the chest fondly. Elizabeth's eyes furrowed.

"What?"

"Would ye like t' see him who love ye, Mrs. Turner?" Although she could tell Calypso was being absolutely serious, the joking manner in which she used Elizabeth's formal name left an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

"Of course," Elizabeth said, moving to stand beside Johnny. She rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I get to see father?" He asked breathlessly.

"No, not ye, jus' yer mother," Calypso said, looking hard at the young boy. "Fer, ye see, Will is not supposed t' know anyt'ing abou' 'is love." She moved towards the window, her dark eyes looking out into the darkness of the June night. "An' ye are not supposed t' know anyt'ing o' 'im," she turned back to Elizabeth. "But, when Davy Jones an' I were separated," she fingered the locket that still hung around her neck, "I did not 'ave a son t' care for… Therefore," she said, looking back out to sea briefly before turning back to Elizabeth, "your task be much greater den mine."

"What are you saying?" Elizabeth asked quietly, her eyes looking intently at Calypso's. Her hands tightened their grip on Johnny's shoulders.

"Ye can see 'im fer one 'our," she said with a smile, her blackened teeth glimmering slightly in the faint candlelight. "One 'our, but dere by some guidelines ye mus' follow, or else," she grinned, spreading her arms. "Ye face me wrath."

"What are these guidelines?" Elizabeth said quickly, a smile gracing her face.

"Ye cannot mention yer son," Calypso said, looking very strict when she said this. "Fer if 'e know abou' 'im, 'is task be much easier fer th' next t'ree years, aye?"

"Yes."

"Ye must not tell 'im ye are real… 'E must t'ink ye are simply a dream, aye?" She said, and Elizabeth nodded. "Fer if 'e knew ye t'be real, 'e may tell ye some t'ings tha' would make yer task easier as well…"

"What is the point of this then?" Elizabeth whispered, not understanding. "If I can't tell him anything, and he can't tell me anything, what are we supposed to talk of?"

"I dun' believe I tol' ye tha' ye coul' only talk, did I know?" Calypso said with a cheeky grin and a wink. There was an awkward silence before Johnny's faint sniffing broke through. Elizabeth bent down in front of her son and she wiped the tears off of his face.

"Why… can't I meet Papa?" He asked quietly. "Does he not want to see me?"

"Of course he wants to see you!" Elizabeth said, holding her son to her. "But… we must do as Calypso says, or else you may never see your father."

"Why, Mama? Can't… can't I come an'-an' we tell Papa that… that I'm Unca Jack's son?" He said, pulling away and sniffing again. "I want to meet my Papa!"

"Ye can't!" Calypso roared, moving towards the pair again. She pulled Johnny away from Elizabeth, who stood and gripped her sword warily. She held onto his shoulders and looked him right in the eye. "If ye wan' t'see yer father in t'ree years, ye mus' simply let yer mother go… undahstand?" Johnny nodded, but glared at her.

"Fine," he said, jerking away from her and running out of the room. Elizabeth was about to follow him, but Calypso put out a hand and stopped her.

"Ye wan' t'see yer lovah?" She asked, and Elizabeth was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She looked at Calypso before looking out the door to where Johnny had run out. Finally she looked back at Calypso with a grim look on her face.

"If Johnny must wait… so shall I. I won't see him. I shall wait."

"Fair enough," Calypso grinned. "T'ree years, den. G'bye, Miss Swann."

"Mrs. Turner," Elizabeth spat before she left the sea goddess alone in her room.

* * *

"Calypso," Will said with a smile as he watched the sea goddess in the form of Tia Dalma walking fast across the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_. "What have I done to deserve your wonderful presence aboard my ship?" 

"I bring ye bad news, William Turner," she said fiercely, moving up to stand beside him by the helm.

"What kind of bad news?" Will asked uneasily. Bootstrap Bill was standing against the rail to his right; they had just watched the sunrise, it was the day after the reunion of his death. "Is it Elizabeth?" He asked, motioning for Bill to take the wheel at Tia's nod. They moved to the railing, and Will looked down to the sea below him. "What… about her?"

"I offered her th' chance t' see ye," Calypso said sadly. "She turned it down."

"What?" Will wheeled around to look at her. "Why?"

"She moved on," Calypso said faintly.

"She has not—she would not!" Will yelled, backing away from the goddess angrily. "She-she _promised_."

"_I won't see him."_

Elizabeth's firm no rang throughout the ship as Will broke down. He collapsed to his knees, staring at Calypso warily.

"Why—why would she say that?"

"_I never loved him…"_

Her voice was barely above a whisper; Will could hear the tears in her eyes. He looked away; he could feel the eyes of his crew burning holes into his flesh. Their pity of him, it was overwhelming. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep the tears from falling. He heard her footsteps, but when she moved to place a hand on his shoulder, he jerked it away with a glare.

"Don't touch me," he spat, moving towards his cabin.

"She dun' love ye, William Turner—but I can…" He turned to stare at her; she was shifting shapes again. And… there she was—Calypso was the spitting image of Elizabeth except…

Her eyes. Instead of Elizabeth's gorgeous cinnamon colored eyes, so full of life and love, they were replaced with blue eyes. They were as blue as the ocean, but weren't as full of life. Instead, they were dull and boring, as if Calypso was about to fall asleep.

"I can be 'o ye wan' me t'be fer ye, William Turner," she purred. Will shook his head, moving towards his cabin. "She cannot love ye, but I—I can."

"I don't want you," Will shook his head, his back hit the door to his cabin. He gripped his sword. He knew if he went in, she would simply follow him. If he stayed out here, he had more of a chance to get away from her completely. She kept stalking up towards him, a seductive smile on her face.

"Ev'rybody wan's me," she purred, pushing her body against Will's. She looked up into his eyes, and winked. He almost fell for it, he almost gave in; she looked so much like Elizabeth.

_Except those eyes._

"Let me be," he said, pushing her slightly. Calypso shook her head. She walked back towards him, and pushed him against the wall. She stood up on her tiptoes with a smug smile on her now-pale features. She stuck out her bottom lip before she leaned in. Will watched with wide eyes as she inched her face closer and closer to his. Instead of kissing him, however, which was what he expected, she leaned in and whispered into his ear.

"T'ree years be a long way t' go," her breath tickled his ears as she spoke. "Le' me make it easier fer ye," she said. He shook his head and pushed her away again.

"You can't replace her—no one will _ever_ replace her." He said firmly. He drew his sword and pointed it at her. "Let me be."

"Fine… enjoy yer loneliness, den, William Turner," she said haughtily, shifting shapes again. She turned back to Tia Dalma and gripped the locket around her neck. "Jones be a perfect example o' wha' loneliness can do to a man."

"I am stronger than Jones."

"Ye be just as weak," she said sweetly, moving towards the bow of the ship. "Soon, William Turner, ye will realize how much I could do fer ye."

With that, she was gone.

Bill motioned for another man to take the helm as he walked towards his son, who had walked into his cabin and shut the door. He disregarding knocking and just merely walked inside. "William?" He called, upon not seeing him. He heard a noise to his left, and he saw that Will was breaking into a liquor cabinet beside his bed. In the seven years he had been Captain, not once had William so much as drank an honest glass of rum. Not even on the reunion of his death and separation from Elizabeth did he drink.

"Sit," Will motioned for his father to sit at a table in the middle of the room. Bill sat, his eyes leaving his son's turned back to look at the organ at the back of the room, now covered by a few sheets of mismatched fabrics. His concentration was broken when Will sat across from him, slamming down a bottle of rum and two mugs. "She doesn't love me anymore… she says she's never loved me."

"Yer wrong," Bill croaked, watching Will pour the hearty alcohol into the two mugs. His motions stopped for a moment as the young man turned to regard his father.

"You heard it."

"Ye don't know if she was saying tha' abou' ye—ye don' know the conversation they were havin' when she said those things," Bill reasoned with his frantic son, accepting the mug of rum as he painfully watched his son down his in a single gulp. "Fer all ye knew, she could've been talking about Jack bloody Sparrow."

"Maybe that's who she's always been in love with."

"She married _you_," Bill reminded, glaring at his son. He stole the rum bottle away and wagged a finger in Will's face. "She professed her love to _you_ in the middle of the most influential battle of all time." Will snorted, waving away his father's reasons. "She spent that day on the beach with _you_."

"Then why did she say she never loved me?"

"She said 'him'," Bill reminded, taking another sip of his rum. "There be a lot more 'him's in this world than simply ye." Will sighed.

"I suppose so."

"I'll bet you anything that in three years time, you will return to see her waiting on that bluff for _you_ and only _you_," Bill reaffirmed, watching his son carefully. Suddenly, Will stopped, his hand gripping his chest as he felt something move within. His head jerked up as soft-spoken words flew through the windows, the wind carrying them around him as his ears filled with her voice.

_Can you feel this, Will? Can you feel me holding your heart in my hands? I love you, Will—I've always loved you. I can feel your love around me… can you feel mine around you?_

_Forgive me for not seeing you today, my love, but… when given the choice, I figured that perhaps it would be best to wait. In time you will understand why I had to choose what I did, but just know that I love you so very much._

_I'll wait for you, Will… I've been waiting. Just…_

_Come home._

* * *

**Okay--time for some explaining.**

**At the end, the words in italics--Elizabeth is talking to the heart again. Will did not hear her the first time, nor any other time except that last time. The only reason he can hear her is because Elizabeth did not get the chance to see him, and Calypso rewarded them both for their love for each other--Will resisting Calypso's temptation, and Elizabeth choosing her son over seeing Will for simply an hour.**

**It's confusing, but I didn't feel like taking away from the story with loads of explanations. Besides--I like my chapters short. :)**

**

* * *

Next chapter: A special visitor checks up on Elizabeth--three guesses on who it is. **

Winner gets... I don't know, but just see if you can guess!

Next update shall be relatively quick... I'm so eager to write the last chapter that I'm just going to try and speed through the next two chapters (yay!)

Thanks for reading--let me know what you think in a review!  
♥


	8. We're Family Now

**Author's Notes: This is probably my least favorite chapter that I've written... Eh.**

**Thanks to all those who reviewed! I tried really hard to answer as many of them personally as I could, but I've been traveling and I've basically haven't had the time to... sorry! But you are all appreciated! **

**Eek... Fanfiction's being a doofus and isn't letting me do what I normally do for each chapter, so... **

**This is chapter eight, and it's titled "We're All Family Now".**

* * *

_In dedication to: Katherine Mason, Maddy Shay, "a pirates fan", and jommy4me for correctly guessing the visitor!_

* * *

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Startled, Elizabeth shifted in her seat, waking up her nearly seven-year-old son. He woke up, turning to stare at her questioningly. "Wha's goin' on, Mama?" He slurred, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. She shushed him quietly, a smile on her face. 

"Someone's at the door, love," she said quietly. He got off of her lap and she set her book down. "Stay right here, all right?" She said as she picked up her sword off the wall. The clock in the hall rang twelve times—midnight! Who would be calling at this hour?

She came to the door as the knocking stopped, and she opened it slowly. She took in a sharp breath; her sword dropped to the floor with a clatter.

"Will?"

Her whispered words caused the man before her to turn around, so she could see his face. He had a strong, kind face with long, curly hair that fell just beneath his shoulders. It was covered by a bandana, a bright blue bandana at that. He wore a black leather jacket that fell at his knees, just above his dark brown boots. He reached out a hand to touch her face, wondering if she was real.

"No," he said quietly, stepping further into the light of the hall. "Elizabeth, I'm—"

"His father," she said quietly, stepping aside. She opened her door wide so he could walk inside her humble home. "I know." She couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice. He smiled kindly at her.

"Would you mind… if I spent the night?" He asked, looking about the house as if he was trying to remember every single detail.

"Of course not," Elizabeth nearly admonished, smiling as she motioned for him to join her in the parlor. "There's someone I think you should meet."

Bill stopped walking, and looked at her warily. She shook her head and motioned for him to follow.

"Not like that," she said, almost insulted by his silent insinuation that she had moved on. "Your grandson," she said, quirking a brow at his blank face. It suddenly registered—his grandson—Will's son…

"Oh, God," Bill muttered, moving quicker into the room. He stopped, as if he was in sudden pain at the sight before him.

"Mama?" Johnny called, as if scared. He began backing away as Bill stared at the child before him. He was the spitting image of Will, save Elizabeth's pale skin and that his hair was a tad lighter. Elizabeth stepped into the room and rushed towards her child. She bent down in front of him with a smile playing on her face.

"Johnny," she said quietly, moving so he could see the stranger again. "This is your grandfather… this is your father's father."

"Grandpapa?" Johnny asked, stepping away from Elizabeth.

"Aye, lad," Bill grunted, looking away from the boy for a moment to control his emotions. "I'm yer grandpapa."

"Mr. Turner," Elizabeth stood up and walked towards her son, who was merely five feet away from Bill at that moment. "This is William Jonathon Turner III," she said, placing her hands on her son's shoulders. "But we call him Johnny."

"Johnny," Bill said quietly, a smile spreading across his face. He knelt down in front of the boy and smiled. "It's nice to meet you."

"Grandpapa," he said definitively. Bootstrap nodded once more. A smile formed across Johnny's face, widening by the second as his eyes sparkled for the first time in a while. "Grandpapa!" He yelped, throwing his arms around Bill's neck and squeezing the older man to him tightly.

"Aye, lad," Bill grinned, pulling him to him as he stood, taking the little boy with him.

"Grandpapa, it's Christmas," Johnny whispered, pointing to their tree. "Tomorrow, Mrs. Ana and Mr. Henry are coming over for supper," he said pointing towards their kitchen. "And I get to play with Mary and David… did you know that they're having another baby?" Johnny asked, counting out the children on his fingers. "I want another brother or sister, but I have to wait two more years 'fore my papa comes home…"

Bootstrap looked at Elizabeth wildly, who was grinning from ear to ear. "He's just like Will," she said quietly, and he nodded.

"Aye. Jus' like me son," Bootstrap nodded. Johnny grinned.

"Your son? My papa?" He asked, Bootstrap nodded. "When was the last time you saw my papa?" He asked.

"Yesterday," Bootstrap said quietly, his eyes going back to Elizabeth. Just as suspected, her knees had buckled, and she was sitting on the sofa again, looking at him just as earnestly as Johnny was. He set the young boy down and he sat in the plush chair while Johnny curled up next to his mother on the sofa.

"How… is he?" Elizabeth asked, trying to control the wavering in her voice.

"Fine."

"… Does he know about me?" Johnny asked very quietly, looking at Bill with those piercing brown eyes. Bill was taken aback at how similar they were to his son, but he didn't let it show. Instead, sadness bore out of his eyes as he shook his head. "…Calypso said he could not. Do you know why?"

"I have… an idea," Bill said.

"Probably something more we cannot know of," Elizabeth mused, standing up. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please," Bill nodded. She smiled and left the room. Bill turned back to his grandson.

"Grandpapa," Johnny said, and Bill assumed he was using his name more and more frequently because he never said it before, "is my papa nice?"

"Very nice," Bill nodded, wondering where this is going.

"Does… he treat everyone well?"

"Exceptionally."

"Will he like me?"

That question had caught Bill off guard as he stared into those strong brown eyes hopelessly. What would cause the child to make such a question? What sort of thoughts had Elizabeth put in this boy's head to cause him to think that—?

"Calypso said I couldn't see him," Johnny continued, as Bill had remained silent. "Is it because he doesn't like me?"

Bill took a moment to glance at the closed door to the kitchen. He heard Elizabeth moving about, but he had yet to hear the whistle for the kettle; he had time. He leaned in closer to Johnny with a mischievous glint to his eye. "Can I tell ye a secret, boy?"

"A secret?"

"Aye—something so special not even yer mum can 'ear."

"I have to keep it from my mum?" He said, also taking a moment to look at the door. "I don't know if I can do that… she knows when I'm lying."

"I'm not saying you have to lie," Bill reasoned. "Ye just aren't tellin' her th' whole truth."

"What's the secret?" Johnny asked quickly.

"Ye see, yer mother an' father can't know anythin' abou' th' other 'cos in two years," Bill started dramatically, reveling in the fact that Johnny was as excited as he, "if yer mum an' dad remain faithful in all sense o' th' word," Bill said with a wink to a very confused Johnny, "they can be together fer ever."

"Really?"

"Yes, but neither yer mum nor da can know, or else th' curse continues fer th' rest o' eternity."

"Oh."

"Aye… so ye can't tell her."

"Tell me what?" Elizabeth asked as she carried in a tray containing a teapot and three mugs. Johnny looked helplessly at Bill who grinned.

"I gave th' lad some money fer a Christmas gift, an' I though' ye wouldn' wan' 'im t' 'ave it."

"Oh," Elizabeth smiled, pouring the tea in the mugs and handed them out to each person. "He can have it, as long as it wasn't too much… erm," she watched Bill for a moment before she decided, "Mr. Turner."

"Please," Bill shook his head with a grin. "We're family; call me Bill."

"What can I call you?"

"Grandpapa fits."

"Fine," Johnny stuck out his lower lip in a bit of a pout, and Bill winked at him. Johnny giggled.

"How… is Will taking to his duties?" Elizabeth asked quietly, stirring her tea. "Or am I not allowed to know?"

"Ye're not, 'm afraid," Bill said sadly. "All yer allowed to know is tha' 'e's fine."

"All right," Elizabeth said just as sadly, sipping her tea in the awkward silence.

"How about… I tell you stories of when yer father was a li'l one jes like ye?" Bill asked Johnny, who grinned at the idea.

"Please?"

"O' course… now, yer father lived in the lower part o' London wif 'is mum," Bill began, and he talked into the wee hours of the morning. At about six in the morning, Johnny had finally fallen asleep. Bill smiled at Elizabeth, who yawned in reply, having not slept at all that night. "'E's a good lad, Elizabeth," he said earnestly. She could tell that it pained him to see Johnny, knowing that Will could not for another two years.

"I tried," she said modestly, filling up her mug once more.

"I best be goin'," Bill looked out at the sky. The sun was about to rise… he could feel it.

"How—how did you get here in the first place?"

"As much as I'd like t' credit it t' sea turtles," Bill chortled as Elizabeth smiled, "it wouldn't be the truth… ye see, Elizabeth, the afterworld is a mirror to this world. When there is a ship wreck, the ship wreck appears in our ocean of sorts," he said, his eyes still locked to the horizon. In the distance, he saw the Black Pearl and grinned. "We appear to them in both worlds. Except… in this world," he gestured around them, "we are but mere images; ghosts, if you will.

"It is only in our world that we are fully human… This is very confusing and I don't expect you to understand," he said, smiling. "It took Will a while to get used to it," he said with a shrug. "Anyway, the Black Pearl had sunk a ship and had stayed with it until we had shown up. I was a mere ghost on the sunken ship, but once I had stepped on the Pearl, I was as I was in the other world. Do you get it?"

"No," Elizabeth laughed, and Bill joined in.

"Well, then," he said, standing up and tipping his hat to her. "Let's just say I got 'ere by sea turtles, then." In the distance, he heard cannon fire and grinned. "It's been a real nice time, Mrs. Turner."

"Please, Bill," she said as she walked him to the door. "We're family now—call me Elizabeth."

* * *

**Ten points if you can decipher what I meant by the world's being parallel--I swear, it makes sense in my head... just getting it on paper is another thing. ;)**

**Thanks for reading--let me know what you think in a review!**


	9. You Don't Have To

**Author's Notes: I can't believe how quickly I'm pumping out these chapters... I really, really love this story, and I especially love this chapter. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews: ENJOY!**

* * *

**One Day at a Time**

**By: MJ**

**Chapter Nine: You Don't Have To**

"Mama, can I open presents now?" Johnny asked politely as Elizabeth gathered the plates. They had just enjoyed a wonderful birthday supper of warm chicken soup and freshly baked biscuits. "Please?" He added, and she smiled.

"Of course… lead everyone to the parlor while I get your presents," she said, and she grinned as her son leapt from his chair and led their guests into the parlor. She walked into the kitchen and placed the dishes on the table. She moved to a cabinet and shuffled some of its contents around before she pulled out her two, small presents. She walked into the parlor to see her son perched in his favorite armchair, positively beaming at his guests. She looked around the room and smiled at each person.

Ana and Henry were there, along with their three children. Mary and David were sitting closer to Johnny, but Ana was holding baby Elisabeth in her arms. They had named her after their best friend and her godmother, only slightly changing the name so as not to cause too much confusion. Jack was sitting in a corner; his hat precariously perched on his head, his feet on the coffee table, and a mug of rum in his hands. She sat down across from Johnny and handed him her two presents.

"Here," she smiled as he snatched them away quickly.

"Thank you, Mama," he said politely, opening up the brown wrapping paper carefully, as if relishing every moment. The first present was quite practical, a new slate with brand new pencils along with a book on pirates. He thanked her somewhat half-heartedly, never having been that good of a student, before he began unwrapping the second one. He tossed the paper aside and began opening up a small box. His eyes widened and he looked at his mother, who had tears in her eyes. She wiped them away quickly and sniffed, still smiling at him. His hand was shaking as he slowly pulled out the key to the Dead Man's Chest.

"Look… after it, will you?" She asked him softly, her voice wavering only slightly. He watched his Uncle Jack reach over and grab her shoulder supportively. She smiled at him before looking back at Johnny. His mouth was dry, so he merely nodded. She smiled, reaching behind her and pulling her hair out. Her curls fell down to her shoulders, and she took the ribbon. She held out her hand and he placed the key on it. She made a necklace for him, and fastened it around his neck. "There you go," she whispered, kissing his forehead before he relaxed into his chair again, beaming just as he had before, if not even more so.

"Thank you, Mama," he said quietly after a while. She smiled. Mary looked at David and David looked at Mary before they both simultaneously looked at their parents, who simply shook their heads and sent them a look that obviously meant it was none of their business. Shrugging, they turned back to Johnny.

"Open our presents, next!" They squealed, Mary getting up to grab their present. She was almost two years older than Johnny, and they had grown to be quite close. She reached into the bag they had brought and pulled out two poorly wrapped gifts. She handed one to David and took another herself.

"Here!" David nearly yelled, pushing the present into Johnny's hands. Johnny hadn't even unwrapped it before he said anxiously, "It's a sail-boat! I made it myself!"

"Thanks," Johnny said as he looked at the sailboat for himself. It was merely a wooden plank that David had fastened a pole to with a little cloth sail. It still meant a lot to him, however, as David was one of his closest friends, despite their slight age difference. Johnny was just about a year and a half older than him.

Mary smiled, handing Johnny his present. Their hands had touched just briefly, and they both blushed. Elizabeth smiled to herself, remembering when she and Will had been young; it was as if history was repeating itself. He unwrapped it carefully as she watched him anxiously. Slowly, he pulled out a wooden flute.

"My father helped me whittle it," she said quietly, her eyes watching him carefully. "It took me a while… I hope you like it."

"Aw, Mary, I love it," Johnny said honestly, smiling brightly at her. "I just don't know how to play!"

"I could teach you! I have one of my own," she said, smiling just as brightly back.

"All right, then!" Johnny said. Ana laughed.

"C'mon, Henry, give 'im our presents…"

"More?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes widening. Henry shook his head.

"It's not that much, Elizabeth, honest."

"Yes, we really only want to spoil 'im jus' a little," Ana said, grinning. Elizabeth laughed.

"Well, all right then—if it's only a little."

They handed him two more presents, and he unwrapped them a bit less reverently. The first was as practical as his mother's first, it being a different book about pirates. Jack had leaned in and snatched the book from Johnny's hands, flipping through the pages as he opened up his second gift.

"Look!" He said suddenly, jabbing at a page with a crooked finger. "Look, ev'ryone—'m in 'is book!" Elizabeth laughed, taking the book from Jack's hands and closed it.

"Can you be narcissistic later?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, he rolled his eyes at her.

"Always about ev'ryone else, aren't ye, Lizzie?" Jack groaned, leaning back once more in his seat. Elizabeth turned back to see Johnny had just untied a scroll of parchment. He unrolled it curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. On the paper were numbers, one to one hundred six. He looked up at Henry and Ana, who were grinning madly.

"What is it?" He finally asked the obvious question.

"A… count down, of sorts," Henry said, leaning over and picking up Johnny's slate pencil. He circled the number "1" and drew an "X" over number "106". "For everyday that passes, for each sunset, you mark off a number," he said simply, leaning back in his seat. "When you get to number one, your father will be home."

"Really?" Johnny whispered.

"Really."

"That's wonderful," he said honestly, looking down at the paper as if it was the best present he had ever received. He looked up at his mother who was smiling fondly. He didn't know that she had been keeping count since the first day Will had left her on the beach. "Isn't it, Mama?"

"Oh, it's very thoughtful," Elizabeth reaffirmed, smiling at Henry and Ana. "Thank you so very much."

"It's nothing," Henry assured. Jack cleared his throat.

"Well, since ye've all gone so bloody sent'mental an' sof'," he shrugged, pulling out his own poorly wrapped gift, "I suppose it's me own time t' spoil th' young whelp so 'e grows up t' be jus' as much o' an eunuch as 'is ol' man," he winked at Elizabeth who rolled her eyes.

"Jack!" She admonished, turning just briefly to send her friends an apologetic stare. "You and I both know--"

"So," he said, plopping down next to Johnny in his chair, setting the gift in his lap, "I know it's not all high-toned and fancy, but 'm a pirate, boy… I don't 'ave th' time t' perfect wrappin' presents."

"I understand, Unca Jack," Johnny said, fondly using his old nickname for the pirate, much to the Captain's dismay. He remained silent, however, intently watching as Johnny unwrapped his gift. The boy's jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

"Bloody hell it's a sword!"

"Mary!" Ana admonished her daughter as she swore, her own eyes widening slightly at the present. Johnny was only nine; what the hell was Jack thinking?

"Aye, a right good one at tha'," Jack said, leaning over to show William something. "See?"

"William Turner," Johnny read, before he scrunched up his nose. "Why didn't you have them put Johnny?"

"Because… that's your da's sword," he said as if it was completely obvious. "Ye see, I went t' Port Royale the otha day," he said, turning more towards Elizabeth than anyone else. "They go' th' best rum," he explained nonchalantly. "Anyway… the smithy is shut down—completely closed. So, I figgered to meself tha' no one would care if I broke in and spent the night. I picked this up on me way out… the perfect weight fer Johnny, and his da made it, too!" Jack said. Elizabeth smiled.

"Here, Johnny… we can put it on display in your room until you're old enough to have it."

"How old is old enough?" Johnny asked. Elizabeth and Jack looked at each other and grinned.

"Twelve."

* * *

At about nine o' clock Henry, Ana, and their kids had left, and Elizabeth had sent Johnny to bed. She made a pot of tea for herself, and showed Jack where she kept her only bottle of rum (it was a bit dusty, but Jack didn't seem to mind). They sat at her meager kitchen table and talked for a while. 

"Thank you for the sword, Jack," Elizabeth said, stirring the sugar into her tea. "It was really thoughtful of you, albeit he is a bit young…"

"Nonsense," Jack shoved her accusation away, "I was eight when I firs' learned 'ow t' wield a sword… the whelp's nine, so," he shrugged, taking a sip of the rum. He had precious little, and therefore was willing to make it last. He ignored Elizabeth's pointed look. "So… one hundred five days," he said quietly, letting out a breath. "Seems like tomorrow, doesn't it?"

"No," Elizabeth shook her head. "Feels like one thousand five days," she said quietly, sipping her tea. "Now that it's so close, it only feels so much farther… I'm also preparing myself for saying good-bye again," she added, staring into the steaming liquid. "It's not as easy as it was then… if it was easy then…" she said, looking up at Jack. "I mean… Johnny's going to be heartbroken."

"What if," Jack said, leaning forward in his chair, "The morning after that final sunset, me an' th' Pearl came an' picked th' two o' ye up? Go on another adventure wif Unca Jack?" He said, using the term "Unca" almost mockingly. Elizabeth smiled.

"That could help," she said. "Yes… that sounds great."

"I mean, as much as I'd like t' see the whelp," Jack said nonchalantly, William's voice ringing in his head. _She can't know of me_ he kept whispering. He had seen Will only those two times, but he still felt guilty about both not being able to tell Elizabeth and it being him who saw Will and _not_ Elizabeth, "I'll give ye two yer privacy." He wiggled his eyebrows and Elizabeth let out a giggle. That was one thing she was looking forward to most.

"Thank you, Jack," she said sincerely. "For everything."

"Well," Jack said getting up, always having to leave when things got a bit too emotional for him, "I best be gettin' back t' th' Pearl," he shrugged, standing. He put on his jacket and pocketed her rum. "I'll see ye in one hundred and seven days."

"One hundred seven," Elizabeth repeated as she watched him walk out the door. She sighed, and finished her tea. She put the cups away for tomorrow and walked up to her bed, exhausted. She walked into her bedroom to see her son staring at the chest. He must've found her hiding spot.

"What are you doing?" She asked quietly. He jumped, and looked at her.

"I'm sorry, Mama," he said quickly, moving to put the chest away. She was there in a second, her hand on the chest.

"Don't be… just…" she sighed, looking him in the eye. "What were you doing?"

"Erm," he said quietly, looking down at his toes. He bit his lip and looked up at her again. "Talking to Papa… like you always do."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Mama," he said quietly, looking as if he was about to cry, "I know I shouldn't have—but, Mama, it's my birthday, and I wanted to see if he'd answer me… has he ever answered you?"

Pushing the fringe out of his eyes, she smiled at him and kissed his forehead. "No, darling," she said softly her hands moving to the chest. She idly traced its details with a lazy finger. "He hasn't."

"Oh," Johnny sighed, looking at the chest in his hands. "Mama?"

"Yes, darling?" She asked again, her eyes closing as the soothing tones of Will's heartbeat took over.

"…When Papa comes back… could he teach me how to make swords like that?"

"Oh, Johnny," she sighed, looking up from the chest. She took it from his hands and set it down on the bed. She sat down and patted the seat next to her, and he followed suit. "Your father," she said quietly, placing an arm around his shoulders, "is doomed to sail the seas for the rest of eternity… he only has one day at land for every ten at sea," her voice was wavering again; Johnny was too young to have to face something this devastating. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on him and sighed. "Maybe… on his second day—when you're nineteen… he may be able to teach you… You'd have to wait ten years, but," she broke off, now, silently crying. Johnny hated to see his mother cry, but he just knew he couldn't tell her the secret Grandpapa Bill had told him a year ago. So, instead, he moved over and reached up a little hand. Delicately and lovingly, he wiped her tears away and hugged her to him. She relaxed into his tender touch, and smiled; he was so much like his father, always worrying about her, and wanting to make her feel better always, even if he, himself, was hurting.

"Don't worry, Mama… I can wait." He told her, and she only cried harder.

"I don't think I can," she said softly, and he smiled, thinking gleefully in his head:

_You don't have to._

* * *

**Thanks for reading--let me know what you think in a review.**

**Next Chapter: The wait is over! 105 days later... someone very special comes back (ten guesses WHO).**


	10. Life Moves On

**One Day at a Time**

**By: MJ**

**Chapter Ten: Life Moves On**

"Mama."

She really wasn't asleep; how could she sleep? Somehow, though a light slumber had taken over, and she was slightly sleeping. She was about halfway there when she heard her son's anxious voice at her side. She was halfway tempted to just roll over and ignore him, to simply hope that if she did he would just go straight back to bed and sleep, too, but instead she opened her eyes to stare into his.

"It's today."

She knew this, already, but she didn't say anything to him about that. Instead she smiled, her eyes sparkling magnificently in the faint morning light before he spoke again.

"Let's go."

He ran from her room, and she followed quickly, still wearing the clothes she wore yesterday. She had merely collapsed in her bed after pacing her room at all hours of the night. She rubbed her eyes as she clambered down the steps, watching as her son darted to the front door.

"Where are we going?" She finally asked, her voice soft. He turned and smiled at her, his eyes just as sparkling as hers.

"The bluff—let's watch the sunrise!"

"Sunset," she whispered, knowing that was what Will was watching. At his sunrise… they would be together again. She smiled. "Of course," she whispered happily, stopping in the kitchen to grab them each an apple. She thought about it and poured two mugs of milk as well before she walked out the kitchen door to see her son already skipping his way to the bluff.

"Yo ho!" He shouted once he got there, unsheathing his sword and swinging it around. "I'm practicing, Mama," he said proudly, even from her spot she could hear the swishing. "For when Papa comes!" She shook her head as she came nearer.

"Later," she said and he put the sword away, taking his mug and apple, "I can teach you a bit more."

"Really?"

"Really. If you want to beat your father, you have to be rather good."

"Tell me more about Papa, Mama," Johnny said before he bit into his apple. The sweet crunch that followed brought a smile to her eyes as she thought of their first adventure on the Black Pearl.

"He's very brave."

"I know all that, Mama… like… what's his favorite thing to do?"

"Hmm," Elizabeth pondered the question. "I think… he enjoys practicing his sword fighting the most. He is the most excellent swordfighter."

"Wonderful!" Johnny squealed, sipping his milk. "He can really, really teach me, then! What… is his favorite color?"

"Blue."

"What is his favorite food?"

"…He likes most food, but especially his mother's roast beef."

"Roast beef? That's my favorite!"

She laughed, ruffling his hair as she took a bite out of her own apple.

"Does he… have any brothers or sisters?"

"No," she shook her head firmly. "Or, at least, he doesn't know them… after all, his father was a pirate," the last bit was more towards herself, but she shook her head. Bootstrap had only loved his wife, Charlotte. She smiled.

"Do he and Unca Jack get along?"

"Rather well… they're best friends, of course."

"Brilliant!" Johnny squealed. Elizabeth wondered where these questions were coming from, but merely dismissed it as nine-year-old curiosity. "…Does he drink a lot of rum?"

"He doesn't touch the stuff… ever." Elizabeth said firmly.

"…Does he own his own blacksmith shop?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. Did Mr. Brown die? Would Will get it then? She shrugged. "Perhaps."

"Mama, can Mr. Henry and Mrs. Ana and Mary and David and Elisabeth come and see Papa?"

"Perhaps not tonight… but tomorrow afternoon; they could come for supper," Elizabeth said, realizing that she would most likely have to share her time with Will. After all, she couldn't simply tell them he was coming and then not show them he was there.

"Can we tell them today?"

"Of course," she said. "I must go to the market, anyway—I'm going to make your father's favorites for supper… which we will have after sunset."

"Later?"

"Later."

"With Papa?"

"With Papa," Elizabeth affirmed, excitedly.

"Brilliant," Johnny repeated again. The sun was completely out of the ocean, now… he turned to his mother. "What should I wear?"

"Only your finest, I think!"

"Race you back, Mum!" He said quickly, darting to the house again with a quickly shouted, "I bet you can't beat me!"

She gathered her skirts and followed him, laughing at his innocence. He had beaten her of course, and she heard nothing but that as they dressed in their separate rooms. When she took his hand in hers, he had smiled mischievously before he took off once more. She grabbed her basket and followed him down the hill and into the little town.

"I get to see my Papa today!" He shouted as they entered the market, receiving the normal glares and glances all around. "He comes home today!" He shouted all the louder, giggling as he finally took his mother's hand. They bought their goods and moved their way to their friends' house, where they enjoyed lunch. Johnny told them all excitedly that they were invited for supper the next day, and Elizabeth hadn't noticed Mary and Johnny's secretive glances and giggles. Little did she know that Johnny had shared his secret, but Mary had kept her lips quiet. Her mother was quite the talker, after all.

"We'll be over at about six, is that fine?"

"Of course," Elizabeth had assured Mary as they made their way out of their small house, waving their good-byes to their friends. Elizabeth looked up into the sky; it was only noon. She still had nine painful hours to go without Will. She sighed. "What shall we do now?"

"Practice!" Johnny shouted joyfully, racing her up the hill again in his excitement. Elizabeth had put her groceries away quickly, marching up the stairs to gather her own sword from her closet; it was dusty, as she hadn't used it in a good three years. She met her son on the bluff where they practiced swordplay for what felt like hours. In actuality, Johnny had tired of it about forty-five minutes in. They fell into a heap in the grass, their swords forgotten as Elizabeth entertained Johnny with more stories of his father.

They practiced a bit more as the time slowly passed them by. Finally, Johnny had collapsed in the grass, begging her to stop for a moment until he caught his breath. Elizabeth looked up at the sky and sighed. Perhaps now would be a good time to begin Will's feast.

"C'mon, Johnny, you can help me prepare supper," she said softly to her young son, who stood up and gathered their swords.

"Okay, Mum," he said, his voice quiet and full of excitement. If they were beginning to prepare supper, then father was almost home… forever. "Let me put the swords away," he said, moving quickly into the house. Elizabeth looked once more towards the horizon. She couldn't believe this day was finally here. Did he look any different? She couldn't help but notice that she had. The skin sagged slightly around her stomach where Johnny had grown, but she was still as slim as ever. She had scars from stretch marks, and tiny wrinkles had formed around her eyes and mouth. She had pulled out her first gray hair only a few days ago, and she sighed at the thought. Regardless of how he looked, she would always love her Will.

"Mum!"

She turned to see her son staring impatiently at her from the kitchen door. "Yes, darling?" She called sweetly, as if she hadn't noticed that she had been out there a while. He rolled his eyes at her and moved back inside as he watched her come towards the house again. With one last wistful look towards the sea, she stepped inside the house and shut the door behind her.

"What are we making?" Johnny asked as he sat at the kitchen table.

"Roast beef," she said, getting out the ingredients for such. She took her time, creating the dramatic pause that she knew would keep Johnny from growing bored. "Mashed potatoes," she said, pulling out the ten potatoes they had purchased from the market. It was something that the Irish settlers made a necessity, and something Will had enjoyed when he was younger. "Peas," she grabbed the brown package full of the still-shelled peas, placing them in front of Johnny as he curled his lip in distaste. "Biscuits," she pulled out even more ingredients; the table was almost completely covered. "For dessert," she turned just in time to see his back straighten and his eyes widen, "Apple pie."

"Are all of those Papa's favorites?"

"Every last one," she nodded, smiling.

"They're my favorites, too," Johnny said, grinning.

"Even the peas?"

"Well," he relented with a sheepish smile, "maybe not the peas."

* * *

"Father," Will said as he walked up towards the older man, a smile on his face. "Do you know what today is?"

"Of course I do!" Bill grunted with a chuckle at his son. "None of the crew has ever seen a smile that big on yer face," he added with a wink, "we knew somethin' must be wrong…"

"Or right," Will said, gripping the railing as he stared out at the Sea of the Dead. "Are you sure she's still where you found her two years ago?"

"Aye," Bill affirmed, knowing that even if Elizabeth had wanted to move, that his defiant grandson would've made it impossible for her. He sighed sadly, something that was not unseen by Will.

"What's wrong?" He asked quickly, turning to look at his father. His father shook his head.

"Just merely thinking about things," he shrugged. Will knew that his father was keeping something from him, but did not press the matter. He feared that if he did, his father might tell him something that could keep him from seeing Elizabeth. He wasn't about to chance it, and perhaps he would simply ask him after he returned to the Dutchman in two days.

"I don't know if I can do this again," Will admitted after a pause, looking at his father firmly. "Ten years felt like an eternity… I'm sure it'll seem even longer this time," he noticed his father was smiling. "It's not funny."

"Of course it's not, me boy," Bill nodded, avoiding Will's eye. "I apologize."

"At least I have you here," Will continued to muse aloud. "That will be nice when I return." Bill said nothing, and Will continued, "Are you… planning on staying with me?"

"To tell you the truth, lad," Bootstrap said sadly, "I was planning on passing on to the afterlife…"

"I especially won't be able to do this without you!" Will said, exasperated and slightly angry. How could his father simply desert him like this?

"Ye won't need me, lad!" Bootstrap told him sternly, placing a hand on Will's shoulder. Will jerked it away, glaring at him. "Besides," Bootstrap continued, hoping to win Will over with his next point, "I haven't seen yer mother in a while, lad… it might be nice for me t'see her."

"I won't be able to see Elizabeth," Will pointed out, before he understood. "Oh," he said, looking down at his feet. "Well… when I return… I'll make sure you get safe passage."

"Of course," Bill smiled, but Will missed the odd look in his eyes as he looked out to sea again.

"It's only a few hours, now," Will said, looking at the night sky. It was already beginning to lighten, slightly; the sun would begin to appear soon. That sunrise was going to feel like forever.

"Aye… listen, Will… I have some things you should take with you before you go," Bootstrap replied. Will didn't ask any further questions; he knew that he should not, and that Bootstrap simply knew something he didn't… It seemed like everyone knew something he didn't.

"All right…"

* * *

The apple pie was the last thing that needed made, and it was almost complete. Johnny had run outside, and as soon as the sun truly began to descend into the sea, he would call her. Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure that God himself could hear it, and it wasn't about to stop. Her palms were sweaty, her stomach was flipping inside of her body, and she felt light-headed all at once. She felt just as she had as she was rowing the boat to the island that last day… she felt just as she had the morning before her ruined wedding… she felt just as--

"Mama!"

She nearly dropped the pie as she placed it on the counter. She sat it there and wiped her hands on her apron, untying it and throwing it on the table as she raced out the kitchen door and outside her house.

Johnny was already there, smiling brilliantly at her. "C'mon, Mama…" he said quietly. She knew the thoughts that must've been racing through his head; they were so similar to her own. Would Will still love her? Would he accept the life she had formed for herself? Had he moved on? Had he expected her to? She shook the thoughts out of her head as Johnny began singing the song as he jogged happily to the edge of the bluff.

"Yo, ho, yo ho," he sang sweetly, as she walked briskly to catch up with him. The sun was halfway through the ocean, "a pirate's life for me…" His little voice broke off as he bit his lip anxiously. She was at his side in a moment, her hands gripping his shoulders and pulling him close to her. They both waited on bated breath as the sun slowly descended into the ocean. Suddenly, it was gone. Elizabeth panicked as nothing happened and then—

_Flash of green._

It was brilliant; probably twice as brilliant as the last time she saw it. She took in a sharp breath, and she felt her son breathe for the first time in the minute it had taken for the flash to occur. Suddenly, the ship appeared, and she couldn't help but let out a slight squeal. She took off running down the slope, as fast as her feet could take her. Her heart was nearly crashing out of her chest, her stomach was in her throat, "Oh, god," she whispered.

She watched him the whole time, her eyes never leaving the sight of him sailing so gallantly, clinging to the rigging, hanging so precariously off of the ship she couldn't help but swoon. He was so dashing in his stark-white shirt; his hair was so beautiful blowing in the wind. Finally, she was at the edge of the shore just in enough time to see him dive gracefully into the water. She waited on bated breath once more, waiting for him to surface. She watched him swim so powerfully and hard towards her, as if his life itself was on the line. She ran into the shallows, her skirts soaking up the water quickly, and then…

"Will!" She cried as he finally reached her, his arms finding their way around her small waist, his lips crashing onto hers without so much as a proper greeting. The kiss was furious and passionate, their tongues fighting as their lips moved in an unsynchronized dance. Their touches were greedy; her hands flying from his back to his neck, through his hair, on his chest. She knew where it was all leading, and as much as she ached for that particular act, she realized with a light heart that her son was standing not even five feet away. She broke off their kiss, gasping for breath as she leaned her forehead against his. His eyes were closed, his breathing heavy.

"Oh, Elizabeth," he all but moaned as he leaned in for another steamy kiss. She shook her head and backed away. Confused, he opened his eyes to see her smile.

"Will," she said calmly, taking a small hand and pulling a nine-year-old boy into view. Will's chest ached, his head was spinning; the boy looked so much like him. "This… this is William Jonathon Turner III," her voice was quiet, her eyes watching him carefully. He turned his attention to the boy.

His son seemed both frightened and excited, anxious and eager, he was chewing on his lower lip in a way that reminded him so much of Elizabeth… He bent down on one knee, the ocean's waves hitting him, urging him forward. He moved quickly through the water, nearly crawling to his son before he captured him in his arms, holding him so close it was almost as if he was a part of him. "Father!" He shouted triumphantly, and the name sounded so sickeningly sweet to Elizabeth's ears that she couldn't help but cry. "Oh, father!" Johnny screamed as Will laughed, fighting through his own tears at the thought of his son.

Suddenly, he jerked away, screaming bloody murder. Johnny's eyes were wide as he backed away from his father. Will gripped his chest, gasping for breath that would not come.

"No," Elizabeth moaned, running forward. She braced Will up in her arms, his chest to hers. She held his face in her hands as he winced and gasped in pain. "Stay with me," she whispered, trying to get him to look at her. "I will not lose you again..." She muttered, more to herself than him. He winced again.

"Ahh," he moaned pitifully, his eyes closing tightly. Lines were appearing on his face; around his eyes and near his mouth. She watched as some of his hair faded to gray. His body seemed fit, yet not as heavy against her. Then… she felt it. She pulled away with a gasp before her hand flew to his chest; trying to find it… there it was again.

"Your heart," she whispered, feeling the telltale beat once more. "It's… it's back." She all but sobbed as she collapsed into his waiting arms once more; the pain was gone.

_Ye always had a touch o' destiny abou' ye, William Turner._

Calypso's voice whispered as the mist of the sea caressed their faces.

_Enjoy yer life togetha._

Then, just as quickly, her voice was gone.

"Did… did you have any idea?" Elizabeth whispered, pulling away from him. He laughed lightly, kissing her forehead.

"Not a clue," he replied, laughing all the harder.

"I knew."

They turned to face their son somewhat guiltily; it was the second time that they had forgotten he was there. Will smiled sheepishly as Elizabeth looked at Johnny curiously. "How?"

"Grandpapa Bill told me two Christmases ago," Johnny shrugged simply with a smile. "Told me if I told you, that it wouldn't happen. You weren't allowed to know or else it wasn't a real test," he moved closer. "But you passed—with flying colors, it seems!"

They laughed harder now, Will pulling his son into their hug. They sat there for the longest time, Elizabeth and Will merely enjoying the warmth of each other's body again, and Johnny finally appreciating the feeling of having two parents. It was quiet, as they sat there on the beach holding each other, until Will's stomach rumbled something terrible, causing all three to laugh again.

"Hungry?"

"Starving—I haven't had a decent meal in ten years… and even then, the food on the Pearl was absolute rubbish," Will admitted awkwardly, smiling shyly at Elizabeth. She kissed his nose.

"I made your favorites… let's go."

They stood up and began to walk hand in hand before Will stopped them. "C'mon, William," he called to his son, who crinkled his nose in a look of disgust. "What—is that not your name?" He asked, quirking a brow. Johnny groaned.

"No, everyone calls me Johnny!" Johnny said indignantly, walking past his parents with a look that clearly said 'I don't want to watch you two anymore'. Elizabeth laughed as Will stood there, dumbstruck.

"Oh, come _on_, Will!" She said, pulling on his hand. "The food is getting cold!"

"Wait!" He said, catching up to her. She didn't miss his hurt look. "What's wrong with the name William?"

* * *

Dinner was uneventful, and soon Johnny's sleepless night caught up to him. He fell asleep as they all sat in the parlor, Johnny telling Will stories of when he was growing up. He missed the pained look in his father's eye, nor did he notice the way Elizabeth was constantly stroking his hand with her thumb, looking at him in a way that meant it wasn't his fault. When Johnny fell asleep mid-sentence, Elizabeth sighed and moved to pick him up to take him upstairs.

"No," Will whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see him looking at his son in only a way a father could; his eyes were so full of unconditional love that Elizabeth's own heart ached for his pain. "Let me." The words were so simple, and yet they held so much more inside of them. She nodded briefly, and he moved past her. She watched as he delicately picked up his son and cradled the boy in his strong arms, holding him close. "You're still going to have to show me," he said shyly, and she smiled at him.

"Right this way, then, Master Turner," she said, enjoying the way it sounded on her tongue. Her stomach flipped when he replied.

"Following you, then, Mrs. Turner."

They walked quietly up the stairs, and she led him into Johnny's room, where he lovingly placed the boy on his bed, tucking him in and blowing out the candle. Before he did so, however, he noticed something peculiar. "Is that--?"

"Your sword," Elizabeth said softly from the door. "Jack gave it to him for his ninth birthday—I hope you don't mind."

"'Course not," Will shook his head, his hands tracing the steel of the blade. He looked at Elizabeth with a wistful grin. "Do you know who I originally had made this sword for?" When she shook her head, his smile widened. "You."

"Me?" She asked, shocked. He nodded.

"It was your wedding present. I knew my wife would not want a new sewing kit, or something of that sort," he said quietly, thoughtfully. "I knew that my wife would want something she could use to protect herself… something that was so obviously made for her… something… special." He smiled at her. "I guess your real wedding present was just as special." She followed his gaze to their son and she nodded. "Let's let him sleep."

He walked out of the room, past her. She walked to her son's bed and kissed his forehead before she blew out the candle and walked out of the room. When she walked back into the hall, she noticed that Will was not there. She panicked only slightly until she saw that the door to her bedroom was ajar. She smiled to herself and walked inside to see him standing thoughtfully by the window. He turned to her when he heard the door click shut and she smiled at him.

"Oh, Will," she breathed, running towards him. He caught her in his arms as she began to weep uncontrollably. She had held it in for so long; she had remained so strong those past ten years… she needed to cry. She needed him there to let her cry. Her head fit so perfectly into the crook of his neck, his arms just felt right as they tightened around her waist. She sobbed into his shoulder, her tears seeming as though they would never stop. All the pain she had suffered, all the trials she had endured came out from where she had kept them all these years.

Finally… they both had a burden to bear… together.

She sniffed, moments later, the tears not being able to come anymore. As it grew silent, she realized that her own shoulder was wet. Confused, she pulled away to see that Will was crying. The tears were streaking down his worn, weathered face. She gasped slightly; she had never seen him cry. Not knowing what else to do, she leaned forward and kissed him soundly, and he had reciprocated just as hard. He began to move them towards the bed, and she smiled into the kiss, despite the fact that his tears were still coming. She realized he must've been mourning all the lives he had seen ended; all the souls he had to ferry. Little did she know of his other burdens, but she knew well enough that he would tell her in good time. As their kissing became less innocent, and their actions turning towards carnal, she let her mind wander back to her loving husband, who was returned to her once more.

* * *

Yes... there is an epilogue.

...And, yes... there is a sequel.

No, I cannot write smut.

* * *

Here it is! I was about this far when I attempted to write more... it just started pouring out of me. By the time I got to the thirteenth page on Word, I sat back at was like... "This is getting tedious." So, I cut it off, ending it here. I hope you all enjoyed it, as I LOVED writing this chapter. One more to go before I move on to the sequel--WHICH HAS A PLOT! I will finish off this story next week, and then I go away for two weeks in a row without Internet access, but this will give me time to work out all the finishing touches.

Thanks for reading--let me know what you think in a review!


	11. Epilogue

**One Day at a Time  
By: MJ  
Epilogue**

Clang!  
Clink—clank—CLANG!

Clack—Clack—Clack

_CRASH!_

"Bloody 'ell!" Jack roared as Johnny stood over top of him, grinning like an idiot. His sword was in his hand, waving threateningly over Jack's face. Johnny held out a hand instead, and helped his "uncle" to his feet. Jack was wearing the Pearl's entire stock of metal pots and pans, having strapped them to his body in many various ways. Just because he was immortal, did not mean he couldn't feel the pain of having an arm get chopped off by "accident" (and feeling it grow back was that much less enjoyable for him). "I'm not fightin' wif ye any longa," he nodded briskly, beginning to take off his effects. "'Specially if ye continue t' figh' dirty… ye're fightin' like yer father!"

"Pirate," Will reminded with a grin as he walked out from below. Johnny ran towards his father, laughing hysterically at his win against his uncle.

"Father!" He shouted, and Will picked him up quickly, although he was getting a bit old for that sort of affection. Neither seemed to care; they were merely making up for lost time. "I beat Unca Jack!"

"It's not that hard," Will said mockingly at the iron-clad pirate, who was glaring sourly as he tried to pry a frying pan off of his behind.

"Oh, har, har, dear William," Jack mocked right back, a smug smile on his features, "but I do remember beatin' ye quite a few times…"

"You didn't fight fair," Will countered.

"Pirate," Jack replied with a shrug. His face took on more serious of tones. "How is she?"

"… I don't know," Will said softly, setting down his son. "Go play, Johnny," he said, and the boy skipped off towards Pintel and Ragetti with a mischievous grin. Will walked back towards Jack, who was watching the lad's movements closely. He seemed preoccupied and worried, his eyes distant and unreadable. When he smiled, it didn't quite reach his eyes, and it was all because Elizabeth had taken ill three weeks ago.

It was close to four months since Will received his freedom, and the entire Turner family had been brought aboard the Pearl two days after Will's initial return. It warmed Jack's heart to see the lovers reunited once again, but to see Will like this was just plain wrong. Four months, and Elizabeth was desperately ill. It wasn't quite fair for him to suffer, especially already having suffered for one long decade.

"She'll get betta," Jack offered. "She's a figh'er, tha' one."

"Will?"

His head snapped towards the entrance to down below, and Jack followed his gaze to the sickeningly pale form of Elizabeth. She was almost completely white, her eyes looked sunken in, and she had bags underneath them. She began to climb out further, but lost her balance in a bout of dizziness and began to fall. He caught her in a moment, and held her in his arms.

"What are you doing out here?" His firm, but gentle voice rang clearly across the deck, which had gone silent. "You should be down below—we're about to make port."

"Will… I think I've realized what's wrong," her voice was so tiny; Jack had to strain his ears to hear her. Will panicked, thinking that she may be dying, so he shushed her quietly with a soft kiss to her lips.

"We'll be in Tortuga in a moment, love," he whispered, brushing her hair past her ear. She was sweating so badly; she had a slight fever. "We'll get a doctor—you'll be fine."

"Will," she tried again, this time sounding just a bit annoyed. "Please."

"Shush," he whispered, kissing her lips once more. "Just… go down below… When we make port, I'll send Johnny for the doctor… I don't want you walking—"

"Oh, honestly, Will!" Her weak voice nearly shouted. His eyes widened as she laughed at him. "I'm not a child!"

"Please, Elizabeth," he begged her once more. "I cannot lose you!"

"You will not!" She huffed, pulling him closer towards her, and whispering in his ear. He nearly dropped her then, a shocked expression on his face. "See? I'm fine."

"No… no, you're not," Will shook his head. "Down below immediately," he said, looking towards Jack. "Can we make this ship sail any faster?" He yelled, causing Elizabeth to wince.

"Will… I have a headache," she moaned. He swooped her up in his arms, carrying her below without so much as a second glance at the pirate Captain, who sat puzzled on the steps.

"Lovers," he muttered to himself, removing the cap from his flask and taking a large gulp. "Bloody hell they depress me."

* * *

Will was anxiously pacing the deck as Henry had come aboard the Pearl to examine Elizabeth. It had been nearly a half-hour ago, and he—along with the rest of the crew—was getting restless. Finally, he heard the door to Jack's cabin open, and the grim face of Henry welcomed him. Upon seeing Will, he smiled and patted his arm. "She can see you now," he offered, and Will took this opportunity to run immediately to Elizabeth's side. 

"How are you?" He asked, sitting beside her on the bed. She was propped up against a few pillows, and was looking positively overwhelmed.

"I'm… I'm…" she muttered, blinking profusely, as if confused. She looked into his warm, worried eyes and smiled. "…pregnant," she whispered, her eyes searching his. They widened at first before rolling back into his head and then they fluttered closed as Will lost all consciousness.

* * *

"Someone—help!" Elizabeth's feeble call alerted the entire crew, and one by one they crammed into the cabin, only to see Elizabeth beaming over the unconscious form of her husband. At everyone's questioning stares, she smiled even wider, "I'm pregnant," she repeated, and everyone understood. "He… simply fainted at the thought." She shrugged, causing a roar of laughter from the crowd. Will stirred suddenly at the noise, and looked around him in confusion. Suddenly, it all came flooding back to him. 

"Elizabeth!" He whispered, sitting up quickly. It wasn't until he felt her light touch pushing him back down to the ground did he relax.

"Shh…" She shushed him softly, a coy smile on her lips, "Don't rush it… you don't want to faint again."

"I fainted?" He asked sheepishly, suddenly realizing that most of the crew was watching them.

"Yes… yes, you did," she replied in between giggles.

"Oh."

"Mama—are you feeling better?"

Everyone turned to the door to see Johnny's worried face. He rushed forward, but paused once he saw his father was on the ground.

"What's wrong with Papa, Mama?" He asked, looking at her incredulously. "Did you hit him?"

"No!" Will said firmly, his cheeks burning up as this had caused more laughter from the crowd. He looked pointedly at Jack, who was laughing the hardest. Getting the point, the Captain of the ship shooed his crew from his cabin, before walking out himself and giving a wink to the couple.

"O' course ye bloody fainted, Will! It's not ev'ry day a eunuch 'as a baby!" Before Will could retaliate, Jack had shut the door and walked away.

"Papa—what's a u-nitch?"

"Err," he said, running a hand through his hair, "not now, Johnny…" He turned back to Elizabeth. "How—why—when? What shall we name it? Where will we stay? D'you think we should make port here, or continue sailing with the Pearl? Elizabeth… when are you due--? Oh, God, I'm going to be a father… again," he rambled on, causing Elizabeth to smile. She shushed him with a soft kiss to his lips before she pulled away and smiled.

"Relax, Will… we'll just take everything one day at a time."

* * *

**So... this story began and ended with a pregnancy, and the same line. Kind of corny and cheesey, but it leaves everything open for the next story... Which will be titled...**

**I dunno yet...**

**Here is the summary, though, so keep a weather eye on the horizon!**

_**It's been four long, hard months since Will Turner left behind the Flying Dutchman, leaving it in the care of Calypso. However, when her heart is broken once more, and the seas turn dangerous for all, the Pirates Court must gather once more, and there's a heavier price to pay this time around...**_

**Thanks for reading this story--it's the first one I've finished!--Let me know what you'd think in a review... I'd love to break two-hundred. -winkwink-**


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